


Encumbrance

by Courtanie



Category: South Park
Genre: Blackmail, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Gangbang, M/M, Minor Violence, Multiple characters as clientele, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-04-18 18:23:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4716008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courtanie/pseuds/Courtanie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stan finds a video featuring Kyle that shocks him a bit. A bit more exploring into it shows that it's not by choice, and Kenny and Kyle are both in danger from this world that they've entangled themselves into. Unfortunately, their unlikely savant may want a piece of the pie all to himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Life was stressful, his job was terrible, he was out of luck when it came to love. All in all, Stan Marsh was just a very tired boy. However, as his eyes dully flitted across his computer screen, none of those things seemed to matter. For just then, it was only him and his internet; his one true love.

His hand reached for his soda can without a single thought, perhaps it was just out of routine as he mindlessly clicked to type in a new site on his browser. He took a long gulp, sighing and typing in a single letter, a part of him ashamed when his internet history picked up where he was going for right off the bat. The other part of him didn't give a damn. He was a hormonal twenty year old with nothing to satisfy himself but his right hand. It was understandable how he found solace the only way that he could.

As he clicked on the site, setting his can down and letting out a long sigh, his mind fleeted to Wendy of course. Anything sex-related made him think of her. How much he hated their first time. And the second, the third, the fourth...When he realized that she just wasn't his cup of tea, he tried with other girls, finding, much to his distaste, that the feeling was the same. No sparks, no deep meaningful love-making. Just sex. Nothing more, nothing less.

However after a drunken encounter with Craig one night celebrating graduation, everything changed. Fireworks, pooling sweat, harsh, reddened marks all over himself; the whole nine yards. So through drunken escapades heard of through so many teenagers and adults alike across the world, Stanley Marsh found that he was perhaps maybe just a tad bit gay.

Either that or he just had a thing for sticking his dick up someone's ass. He couldn't exactly tell at the time.

However, after that little adventure, he found himself blatently staring at boys all over the place. In school he couldn't stay focused, too busy scrutinizing every guy he came across, looking for maybe what he liked, what he couldn't find attractive. Perhaps looking for a way to brush this all off as just sexual confusion.

He watched as his page loaded, the banner reading 'twinkletwinks. com'. He shook his head lightly at himself. He was far past the point of hoping he was just a confused, lonely boy. A few more romps in the sack with Craig proved that well enough. Not to mention the way that he now looked at every male he came across, scanning them up and down for points of interest. Few caught his eye in the long run. Craig, not so much. He was just a good lay. He had a fleeting interest in Kenny but it died off pretty easily, especially after he and Kyle got together. Kyle, however? The interest was not so fleeting. He knew well-enough that Kyle was Kenny's, and he had little to no intention of stealing the redhead from him. Though if they just "happened" to break up, well, he wouldn't be so against the idea of a Super Best Friend with benefits. Though he didn't see that happening anytime soon. The two of them were already living together so he stood little chance of such an encounter.

He chuckled quietly to himself. For being criticized as cynical for so long, he still had a few hopes here and there.

He scrolled through the new videos lining the page, screencaps of boys screaming for more or dicks shoved up asses that made his stomach curl a bit in excitement. None seemed to pique his interest right off, so he went for his default, clicking on the drop down category box at the top of the screen and selecting 'gangbang'. He had a little more than just a fetish for watching some small whore getting fucked ruthlessly by a group of guys. He wasn't ashamed of this fact but he would never say it aloud.

He sifted through the newer videos, pausing as a screencap caught his eye. He blinked. And again. That redhead looked _awfully_ familiar...He looked at the date it was added. Four days ago. He quickly scanned his brain for any recollection of said day. That was a Tuesday. He and Kyle went to play basketball that day, right? He stared at the screencap a bit longer, biting his lip slightly as he clicked on it.

He leaned back in his chair, watching as the screen faded into what looked like some kind of garage or warehouse. Cement floor, a bunch of random boxes just strewn all over the place.

"So," a voice started from behind the camera as it panned around slightly, starting to move forward with the cameraman's walking. "We're in for a treat today." Stan's heart sped up slightly. That was Kenny's voice. The camera moved to the right, landing on a couch with a small redhead sitting upon it, looking a bit tensed. Stan's stomach did flips as the camera walked towards him.

Plain as day, there was his best friend, sitting there on the side of his legs, looking at Kenny past the camera. "You ready, Babe?" Kenny asked. Kyle smiled a bit, though Stan could tell it took a lot of him to do so. Kenny's hand appeared from behind the camera, lightly cupping his chin and running his thumb along his cheek. Stan narrowed his eyes as Kyle mouthed something to him, his green eyes shining a bit in the bright lighting. Stan bit his lip, knowing from that look that Kyle was almost on the brink of tears through that fake smile.

The screen faded, reopening the scene to Kyle perched up on his knees on the cushions, five men surrounding him on all sides, leaving just enough of a gap for the camera to zoom in on the redhead. Stan shuddered a bit, watching the naked men surrounding the boy, all of them staring at him intensively as they stroked themselves. Stan heard one of them murmur for him to get naked and couldn't help but cringe. Usually this kind of thing would be nothing more than a glorious fantasy before him. But watching Kyle in the middle of all this was a little too far from comfort for Stan to accept and jerk as he usually did. He felt the need to throw his laptop out the window, but couldn't help watching as Kyle stripped off his old green hat, throwing it aside and shaking his red bangs from his eyes.

Stan watched as his eyes stayed towards the ground, avoiding any kind of eye contact with his viewers as he slowly zipped down his thin orange coat, smoothly sliding it off of his shoulders. One of the men stepped up, grabbing it and ripping it off his arms with impatience. Kyle took a deep breath, lathargically gripping the hem of his t-shirt and working it up his torso. Stan couldn't help but flinch as his cock twitched at the sight of Kyle's milky, toned skin. He tore the fabric up off of his arms, tossing it on the couch next to him, casually running his fingers up through his hair.

Anyone else would have just figured it was to look sexier for the camera. Stan knew better. Nervous habit of Kyle's. It had been since they were thirteen.

"Mm, look at you," one of the men leaned down, sliding his hand over Kyle's chest. Kyle took a shaky breath, letting two of the others' hands roam his chest, neck, and hair. One of them grabbed the back of his neck tightly as he leaned down, pulling Kyle up against him into his lips. Kyle's nose scrunched lightly as he instinctively recoiled away. Stan watched carefully as their parted lips showed Kyle's tongue very reluctantly going back up against the man's. Stan could see the camera tremor slightly.

This had to be killing Kenny. No one else was allowed to touch Kyle's hair, let alone kiss him so long as Ken was around. But then why the hell was he letting this happen?

"Come on, Baby, keep goin'," another man demanded. Kyle breathed as evenly as he could around the man's invading tongue, his hands working down towards his jeans. He fumbled with his button, quickly tearing them apart and starting to shimmy them down his thighs.

"Slower, slower," one of them instructed. "Let us enjoy the view, hm?" Kyle's shoulders could be see heaving in a sigh before he slowed down, inching the jeans down his slender thighs. "Now you can do better than that," he teased, his hand reaching over and stroking up his cheek with his fingers. Kyle pulled away from the other's hungry mouth, kissing his chin for show. He grasped his waistband, slowly moving his hips a bit to work the pants down to his knees. He slowly lifted up his right knee, placing a hand over one of the men's arms currently running over his chest for support as he managed to work it off and around his bare foot. He ran his hand up through his hair again and Stan let out a shaky breath. Getting into porn was one thing but he couldn't tear his eyes away for as much as a blink as he watched Kyle's slim body roamed over with eager hands.

One of those hands grew a little too eager, roughly pushing on his chest and sending him on his back onto the couch. They grabbed his disregarded pant leg, roughly tearing at it and ripping the denim off of his remaining leg. He laid back, staring up around at the men surrounding him. His eyes briefly flickered towards Kenny before a deep blush overtook his face and he looked back up at one of the men as they kneeled down above his head.

"Come on," he urged, grabbing Kyle's hair and tugging on it a bit until Kyle propped himself up on his arms slightly. Stan could see him gulp before his hand wrapped around the man's throbbing cock, slowly pumping his skin as his small tongue darted out and licked over the skin. He moaned as one of the men grabbed him through his boxers, roughly palming over him.

"Baby, you don't seem that into this," one of them cooed, leaning over and pinching Kyle's nipple roughly. He hissed before the man stood up, his cock standing by the boy's face. He grasped around the flesh a bit tentatively before his hips began rocking up against the other's stroking hand. He moved forward, taking the man on his side's cock between his lips. The man moaned, pushing lightly into his mouth. He opened his mouth wider a bit, allowing the man to plunge down towards his throat to his will, only the occasional gagging noise leaving his slender neck.

Stan couldn't help but be impressed. He never took Kyle for much of a deep-throater.

The man stroking over him grasped around his boxers and Kyle lifted his hips up off the couch, letting him pull the fabric down over his thighs and knees, the camera briefly panning around at the reactions of the men. Stan winced. They looked hungry. Way too hungry.

"Well lookie at you, Pretty boy," one of them breathed out, running his finger down Kyle's chest, stomach, and finally over his semi-erect cock. Kyle let out a soft sound, looking back towards the man as he pulled his lips off of the other's dick, running his hand over the slickened flesh.

"Come on, you," the one hovering over him stated. He reached under Kyle, roughly pulling him up. "Knees," he nodded down towards the floor. Kyle visibly tensed and Stan couldn't help his smirk. No one had the right to tell Kyle what to do without serious consequenses. He watched with a level of shock as Kyle did as instructed, moving off of the couch down onto his knees on a rug strewn sloppily across the cement floor. He bit his lip a bit as the five of them surrounded him before taking a deep breath and raising himself up slightly, grasping two of them in his hand and pulling on their skin nervously. The man directly in front of him smeared his cock over his lips as the camera moved to zoom in on his face.

Stan watched as Kyle's eyes flickered up at the man, his jaw trembling slightly. He licked his pre-cum stained lips before taking the cock down into his mouth. He closed his eyes, starting to move his head back and forth along him. Hands came down, tangling in his hair. "Look at me," he instructed.

Kyle did so, his vivid eyes quickly shooting back up towards his face. The man gripped his hair tightly, holding his head still and starting to thrust wildly into his throat. Kyle's eyes watered, staring up at the man still with a look of anguish over his face.

"Look at you," he breathed, his hips jerking against the boy viciously. "You like the way that tastes?" Kyle merely moaned in response. Stan shook his head. What the hell was going on... "Yeah? You like that?" he kept on going. He released his hair and Kyle flew back with a loud gasp before quickly shifting over, tonguing over the slit of the man next in line's cock.

He suckled lightly on the head before plunging down, his hands easily and (a bit worrying for Stan) skillfully moving from dick to dick, pumping and twisting with loud, gutteral moans errupting from the men's throats. The man whose cock was currently being licked and suckled by the boy grabbed his hair. "Open," he directed. Kyle did so, his mouth dropping open automatically for him. The man plunged down into his throat, his hips gyrating against the boy with vigor.

"Take all of him in," one of the others said. Kyle wasn't so quick to respond and they smacked his cheek. "All of him. Come on, take him into the back," he ordered. The man pulled Kyle's hair forward, his nose crashing against his stubbed pubes, mouth agape and a trivial amount of saliva worming its way out his mouth and down his chin. Kyle looked up worriedly, his hands still working on the others but his mind obviously anywhere but on the other four.

"You like that?" the man asked, pulling back and allowing him a mercy breath before slamming right back into place. "You like all of that? Think your throat can handle all of me much longer?"

Kyle started choking, right on cue, his eyes watering anxiously. The man pulled out of his mouth completely and he fell back with ragged breaths. He coughed, gathering up enough to spit on the cock of the man next to him, wrapping his slim hand around and spreading it over the blazing skin.

"Kyle, what the hell are you doing?" Stan whispered, trying very desperately to ignore his cock throbbing away in his jeans. Kyle was a bright young kid with a college career ahead of him as soon as he got the money he needed for his loans. He shouldn't be doing this. He was too smart, too young, too...too...innocent for this kind of thing. No doubt dating McCormick had taken a few tolls on his once-clean-as-a-whistle mind but there was just no way that Kyle would degrade himself to this. Especially not publicly. Hell, Kyle rarely watched porn, let alone acted in it. Stan rubbed the side of his head as the camera zoomed in on Kyle's eyes flickering around his five -ahem- suitors.

The camera faded out before entering back to a close-up view of Kyle's ass, something that did not help Stan's boner in the slightest. One of the men kneeled down beside of him, rubbing his skin and chuckling. "Look at that," he smirked, slapping his ass sharply. Kyle jerked slightly, not uttering a sound. Stan managed to look up past Kyle's fine ass up over his head, noticing that the reason he was so quiet was because he was busy with another guy's cock down his throat. Stan groaned, shifting uncomfortably as the man playing with his ass spit on his fingers, trailing his index along him, teasing his hole slightly.

"You want this?" he asked huskily, slapping Kyle's ass again. "You want to feel something inside you? Beg for it, now." Kyle whimpered, his hips thrusting back towards him slightly as he leaned up, taking yet another man's cock into his mouth. "You eager little whore," he chuckled, slipping his finger down into him. "Oh man, you're gonna be tight," he moaned, sliding in another finger right away. Kyle moaned, moving his hips around, urging the man to prod him deeper. "Oh you want more?" he asked. He slid in yet another finger and Kyle shot off from his suckling, letting out a strangled groan. He looked behind him, staring at the man as he wriggled his fingers around roughly.

"For someone so small he sure takes a lot, haha," another chuckled. Stan watched the fingers thrusting in and out of Kyle, squirming in his chair, his hand slowly working over his zipper and grabbing at his crotch, massaging gently. This was wrong as all hell but as far as Stan was concerned, this was just another ordinary porn movie. He just happened to know one of the actors is all.

The fingers receded from Kyle and the man spread his ass, spitting down on him. The camera circled over towards Kyle's face, where he was tonguing a cock with teasing precision. The man under him ran his fingers through his hair and Stan could see the camera tremoring again. "You ready for more, Babe?" he cooed at the redhead.

"Mhm," he nodded, leaning down under his cock and sucking lightly at his balls before the shot moved back over behind him. It slid down his torso, giving a quick glimpse of Kyle's dripping, reddened cock before sliding back down to view the man who was fingering him kneeling one knee on the couch behind him. The camera backed up, showing the row of people along the sofa all staring at the redhead as the man positioned himself, sliding his cock along his ass a bit and licking his lips.

"Get ready," he purred before holding himself steady and pushing in past Kyle's tight ring. Kyle pulled up off the other's cock, burying his head into the couch cushion and moaning loudly. The camera zoomed in as the man pushed in inch by inch, Kyle's body taking all of it in with shaky jerks of momentary pain. The man's balls smashed up against Kyle's ass and he groaned, his fingernails digging into the cushion underneath him.

"How do you like that?" he asked, scraping his nails over Kyle's back. "Whaddya want?" he taunted. "Hm? Tell me what it is you want."

Stan moaned, unvoluntarily undoing his zipper and button, his cock already pushing out through his boxers, practically purple from the brutal restraint.

Kyle raised his head back up, looking at the man with desparate eyes. Stan couldn't tell if it was lust or humiliation at this point; his own view too clouded over with yearnings for more of this. "Fuck me," he breathed out, flinging his hair out of his face.

The man grinned, pulling back just slightly before pushing back in, making Kyle's body curl. "Sorry, you'll have to beg," he chuckled.

"Please...fuck me," Kyle panted, thrusting his hips back against him urgently. The man just laughed, grabbing his hips and starting to do as requested, not giving him but a second to adjust before slamming his hips down into him time and again. Kyle moaned, his body bouncing in his crouched position along the couch.

Fingers intwined in his hair and pulled him back to the man in front of him. He opened his mouth falling down around his cock and bobbing his head in time with the man's steady thrusts. The man leaned over him, grabbing his hair and pushing him down. "Eat his cock, you slut," he commanded. "Take it all." Kyle did so, coughing as the man's thrusts pushed him down further, jolting the dick around in his throat.

Kyle pulled up with some fighting, gasping for breath before being pulled up flat against the man behind him's chest. He leaned his head back against the man's chest, moaning and reaching behind him, clawing at him. "Aa-aahh..." he cried out amongst the sound of colliding skin. Stan moaned along with him, his hand grasping around his aching cock and slowly pumping. "F-fuck!" Kyle gasped, bowing his head down and gritting his teeth. He looked over as a man jumped up on the couch in front of him looking up at him and grabbing his cock. He jerked his skin in time with the man's thrusts.

He blushed shyly before licking his skin and taking him down into his throat. The man behind him reached up, grabbing around his neck and holding him still as they both pushed against him eagerly. Kyle merely whimpered, shaking and squirming in their hold. Another of them stepped up next to them and he reached his hand out, grabbing his dick and following the rhythm of the other two. The one abusing his mouth pulled out, leaving a slick strand of saliva and cum between the two of them. It fell onto Kyle's face before the man behind him grasped his chin, pulling his head up and chuckling.

"You love this, don't you you little whore?" he murmered. Kyle just looked at him with hazy eyes, his mouth agape as he gave a few hardened thrusts into his body as the camera zoomed in on the two of them. He moved his fingers up into the boy's mouth, grinning widely as he licked and suckled his fingertips willingly.

The video suddenly changed scenes with a quick crossover transition to show Kyle straddling the lap of another on his knees, facing the camera. He slowly lowed his hips down, pushing his cock down inside of him and moaning heavily. He took a few moments to stabalize himself, resting his hands on the man's knees before starting to roll his hips back against him.

"Yeah," one of them taunted, walking up and smacking his ass firmly. "Ride that cock." Kyle just bit his lip, groaning and propelling his hips back and forth, grinding down and tonguing over his teeth. The man behind him leaned his head back and moaned, grabbing his hips and forcefully moving him along.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned. Kyle brushed his bangs out of his eyes, propping himself up on his knees slightly and letting the man bounce up into him at his own pace. "You fuckin' love my dick in you, don't you?" Kyle mumbled an agreement, grasping on to another's length and keeping up with the pace.

Stan shook, pulling at his skin faster. Kyle's sweat-glistened skin. His blush, his...his _skill_ in the whole thing. It was tantalizing. It was unbelievable to his best friend of so many years. No matter how much of a fleeting crush he had on the redhead, he never dreamed that Kyle could be so irresitably erotic.

One of the others stepped up in front of them, Kenny moving the camera at an angle showing Kyle as he looked up at him. He stopped Kyle's rolling and pushed him back slightly, grabbing under his legs and roughly pulling them out. Kyle's eyes suddenly became saucers with fear. His legs were pulled up and over the man's shoulders indecently exposing his body for whatever the man had in store. Stan winced along with Kyle. It was going to hurt.

"P-please..." Kyle mumbled out worriedly.

"Begging for it, my little whore?" The man shook his chin a bit before lining himself up.

"I...It...It won't f-FIT!" he screeched out as he started roughly pushing into him alongside the other man. Kyle moaned and writhed and screamed all at once, seemingly having a mini seizure atop the man's lap.

"Fuck," the man grunted, shoving himself balls-deep inside the boy. "Look how well he can take it." The camera showed otherwise, Kyle gasping for breath, his fingers twitching and tears beading his eyes. The camera went through a spell of violent shakes before finally being set down on something sturdy. Stan frowned. Kenny couldn't take it. He had to walk away. One of the men walked up and grabbed the camera as the two resting inside of Kyle started to thrust.

"Nnn-nnghnoo..." Kyle groaned, laying his sweat-drenched head back. The camera panned around showing the other three jerking themselves off as they watched the poor boy being invaded. Stan couldn't help himself, his fingers still wrapped tightly around his dick. He knew this situation couldn't be good if Kyle was wanting to cry and Kenny wasn't willing to keep on watching, but that would have to wait until his thoughts caught back up with him. This was about twenty worth of wet-dreams come true.

"Spread your legs...wider," the man hovering over him demanded. Kyle just lied as he was, moaning and crying out, and Stan could have sworn he heard him plead for Kenny within the mass of noises escaping his lips. The man grabbed his thighs, stretching them apart and deepening his thrusts with increased vigor. "Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about," he laughed with the man under them.

The man under him grabbed his cock and Kyle shot up a bit, sobbing out hurriedly, his eyes staring at the ceiling. "Ahhh...Ahhh..."

"You gonna cum for us?" one of them purred, walking over and stroking his cheek. "You can't wait to feel someone all over you, huh? Even if it's you, you just want to feel it all over your little whore body."

Kyle screamed at his words, his hips violently jerking and making the men invading him moan loudly. He exploded onto his chest and stomach, moaning incoherent phrases all the while. Stan flinched, feeling that familiar knotting in the pit of his stomach. Oh fuck, he was close. This was so wrong but there was no turning back, he was just so fucking close...

"Ah fuck!" one of the men inside him shouted. He roughly continued thrusting into him until finally his head fell back against the cushion and his mouth fell open gasping for air. The man still thrusting pushed Kyle firmly back against him, driving his hips madly into the boy before finally letting out a long, heavy moan and coming to a stop. Shaking slightly, he finally pulled out of Kyle's reddened abused ass along with the other man, moving to let the camera zoom in on the cum now dribbling out of him with each breath he took.

They suddenly ripped Kyle away from his breather, forcing him down on the floor. The camera was handed off and the remaining three men surrounded him, quickly jerking their cocks and moaning. Kyle tiredly looked up, opening his mouth and holding out his tongue. Kyle looked exhausted, completely spent, unwilling for anything more. Stan stared at that heavy look in his eyes, that pure sweat-ridden expression before completely losing it. He moaned out Kyle's name as he burst out into his hand, staring at the ceiling and heavily panting, the feeling of guilt simultaneously hitting with the end of his climax.

Shit, he was going straight to Hell for this one.

He looked down just in time to see the three of them coming all over Kyle's face, hair, and chest. He tongued a bit up as they all ended, showing it on his tongue a few moments before swallowing what bit of it he had. He opened his eyes, his face flushed over with embarrassment.

The camera scanned up and down his abused body, the man behind asking, "Love the way that tastes, don't ya?" Kyle merely nodded, making a rather non-convincing 'mmm' sound. He licked his lips one more time before the camera faded to black and the replay button appeared on the screen.

Stan blinked. And again. And again.

He slowly grabbed a tissue, wiping his rather disturbing mess clean off of his hand and jeans before closing out of the internet, staring at his Nevermore background with very, very confused eyes.

"...THE FUCK?" he shouted suddenly.

Kyle was in a porno. Kenny was...letting him? As possessive as he is of Kyle? That made NO fucking sense.

He bit his lip, grabbing his phone and scrolling into his text messages, pulling up Kyle's name. He felt a shiver of shame passing through him before typing _'Hey, Dude.'_ and sending it. He took another wavering breath, closing his laptop to prevent himself from looking for that video again.

A matter of seconds later, typical of Kyle, came the response ' _Hey. What's up?'_

Stan thought a bit before deciding that he couldn't just let this go without knowing what the hell those two were up to. Too many restless nights would be spent as he constantly searched the internet in the hopes of finding more of these videos. Maybe if it was for some horrible reason, he would be less apt to jack off.

' _You and Ken wanna meet for dinner tonight? My treat,_ ' he added as an extra incentive. After all, Ken never turned down free food.

' _Sure! When and where?'_

Stan looked around a bit, biting his lip. Where would this be the least suspicious... _'Idk dude. Shakey's for old times sake?'_

' _That sounds awesome_ ,' came the apt response. ' _Meet you there at seven?_ '

' _Sure. See ya then,_ ' he typed back before putting the phone down and taking a deep breath. He noticed a missed smear of cum on his desk, staring at it with a million questions flooding his mind. His best friends of all people...some people did that kind of shit just to get their rocks off but it was way too obvious to Stan that this was not just some weird kink that one of them had. No part of this seemed to add up...He wiped off the drop with his tissue, crinkling it in his hand.

This was going to be awkward as hell for all of them, but Stan had a feeling there was more to this than just a hobby of theirs.


	2. Chapter 2

Seven rolled around a little too fast for Stan's tastes. Only about three hours worth of practicing just what the hell to say to Kenny and Kyle didn't do him well.

_'Have you guys ever considered filming a movie?'_...No

_'So...are you guys into porn?'_ No.

_'So...would you two ever consider watching the other getting fucked?'_ **Definitely** no.

He groaned, standing outside of Shakey's waiting for the other two and scratching his hair up through his hat. This was way too fucking complicated for simple Stan's tastes. He finally decided that Kenny was the lesser of two possible evils, he'd be the one to bring this up to.

He heard two distinct voices approaching him, looking over and seeing the two of them walking towards the restaurant talking. Stan couldn't help but let his eyes linger on Kyle. How the hell was he even walking straight? Of course it'd been at least four days since that filmshoot...but still. He looked like he was hurting a hell of a lot.

Said boy looked over at him, flashing him a huge smile.

_Too innocent of a smile._

"Hi, Stan!" he called out, waving a bit. He picked up the pace, leaving the side of Kenny and running over to him. "Dude, it's been like, forever since we saw each other," he grinned.

Stan nodded, vaguely remembering the last time they actually saw each other was when he and Kyle had met to play basketball what with Stan's busy work schedule and all. He frowned at himself as he mentally questioned the boy, ' _And just how many people have you fucked since then?_ '

"Hey, Stanny boy," Kenny came up, smirking at him. "And to what do we owe the pleasure of your charity tonight?"

Stan forced a smile across his face, "Well like Kyle said, it's been awhile. Figured we may as well catch up. And I got paid a few days ago, so I don't mind. 'Sides, I haven't seen you in longer, Ken," he smirked. "Gotta know what's up in your world."

He snorted. "Gettin' drunk, bein' mad, fuckin' Ky. There. You're all caught up."

Stan had to bite his tongue at the 'fucking Kyle' comment. "Well...shall we?" he opened the door for them.

"Thanks," Kyle grinned at him as he passed. Kenny followed, looking at Stan suspiciously.

"You all right?" he asked lowly, out of Kyle's earshot. "You're lookin' at me weird."

"Nothing," he shook his head. "Just feelin'...weird is all," he shrugged. Kenny nodded, still looking rather warily as he followed the redhead. Stan followed close behind, letting out a lengthy breath. This was going to be harder than he thought...

They walked in and sat down at a corner booth, Kenny and Kyle squeezed into one side and Stan on the other. They stared at each other awhile before Stan cleared his throat. "So...how've you been? How's married life goin?" he smirked, moving his leg in anticipation for Kyle's kick.

"Shut the fuck up, we're not married," he glared.

"Not yet," Kenny teased, throwing his arm around Kyle's shoulders. "Though we already have the apartment, the bills, and the cat. So, we're just a paper signature away."

"You wish," Kyle scoffed, rolling his eyes before settling back on Stan. "We're doing fine, thanks," he said.

Stan nodded as the waitress came up. They ordered a round of cokes and a large pepperoni pizza. Everything the same old same old minus Stan's little knowledge of the two of them, and it was eating away at him like a group of ravished termites.

"How've you been, Stanny?" Kenny asked, his arm still looped around Kyle, Stan noticed.

He shrugged, "Fine. Work sucks and all that but it's whatever."

"Hm," he nodded.

Stan leaned back, sighing and tapping his finger on his thigh. This was just too awkward. It's like they knew that he knew, that it was a disgusting cloud of filth that hung in the air. Dirty, sweaty, shameful filth.

"So, Ky," he started. "Did you...look up schools like you were talking about?"

Kenny blinked before looking down at Kyle. "School? What school?" Kyle shot Stan a furious glance. Oops. Apparently he hadn't talked to Kenny about this yet.

Kyle looked up at his boyfriend and shrugged. "I...I was...looking for a cheap college to go to," he said slowly. "I have the scholarship money for a decent enough place...I just wouldn't have all the bills paid off."

Kenny blinked again. "Kyle, you know I want to put you in school but we can't right now."

"I know, I know," he nodded sadly. "I...I was just looking. Not applying or anything. Just needed to look to convince myself I couldn't."

"Wait, wait, wait," Stan interrupted, the both of them looking at him. He leaned on the table, staring at them. "Why exactly can't you?" Kyle and Kenny looked at each other before each of them shrugged a bit. The waitress came back with their drinks and set them down, winking at Stan and scurrying away. He rolled his eyes at her briefly before looking back at the two of them, who seemed to be very interested in stirring their Cokes. "Guys, answer me," he insisted.

Kyle looked up at him first, Stan for the first time noticing the bags under his eyes in the restaurant lighting. "Stan...we're really fucking poor right now," he sighed, leaning against Kenny.

"Aren't your parents giving you money?" he asked. "You told me they were."

"I lied," he said thickly, looking away. "I have a little bit left from my old job but...but since it closed down neither of us have found a new one."

"Yeah, ain't nobody hirin' this time of year," Kenny scoffed. "One near-high school dropout and one kid who can't lift anything over forty pounds. It's a monster of a world, Stanny. Be thankful for what ya have," he squeezed Kyle's shoulders pointedly.

Stan stared at them. "But...what about your parents?" he asked again. "Sheila and Gerald mus-"

"Want nothing to do with me," Kyle snapped, his lips set firmly. Stan recoiled a bit. "Since I moved in with Ken, they've decided that I don't need their money because they got the idea that me leaving meant that I was leaving the family."

"...Move back?" he suggested with a wince. "Maybe they'll let Kenny crash."

"Hah," Ken scoffed, taking a long sip of his drink. "Please. Sheila and Gerald ain't never liked me. Then when they found out I was nailing their sweet little innocent Kyle, well, things got a little out of hand."

"What the-" Stan stopped, absolutely shocked and quite a bit hurt that Kyle hadn't told him the truth about all this. The hell happened to everything being just fine? "What happened?"

"My mom went ballistic," Kyle mumbled. "Then Dad tried literally throwing Kenny out the door."

"And I pushed him back and he fell over. Old fart went down like a sack a' bricks," Kenny said, a hint of pride lingering.

"After that...I just walked out," Kyle shrugged. "Mom told me to either choose between staying with, as she put it, 'someone who hasn't amounted to anything'," he air-quoted, Kenny's fingers wrapping angrily around his soda glass, "or not living in her house. So, I made my choice."

Stan sat in complete stillness. What the fuck had he been missing? Was he really so daft that he couldn't even catch when his best friend went through the one of the biggest catalysts to who he is now?

"So...what are you two...doing for money?" he asked, though his answer was vividly playing through his imagination.

"Odd jobs," Kyle responded robotically. "House sitting, cleaning up people's houses, mowing lawns. Ya know." Stan looked at him skeptically before shaking it off.

"Dude, why the hell didn't you tell me this?"

He looked at him tiredly, "Because you would worry too much."

"Fuck yeah I'm gonna worry!" he exclaimed. "Dude, you two are only goddamn twenty one! You shouldn't be wallowing through poverty already!"

"Story of my life," Kenny smirked, raising his glass in a fake toast before setting it back down. "Look, Stanny, we are where we are. Ky's parents won't let us in, my parents are in jail, we're stuck where we are. But we'll get through it."

Stan watched the two of them shift just slightly closer together. Something was still up. Desperation shouldn't matter. What he saw earlier that day was not something that the two of them would go through. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose exhaustedly. He looked back at them with heavy eyes. "Dudes...I wish I could help but I'm barely making it myself."

"We don't _need_ your help," Kenny snapped.

Stan jerked back at his outburst and Kyle sighed, patting Kenny's arm. "Dude, you know Kenny hates charity," he shrugged sheepishly. "Look we're...we're dancing on glass shards right now and it's hard," he winced. "We're having to be people who we never thought we would be. But we're getting through it. So long as we can scrape up the money for rent and food, we're gonna be okay."

"But Kyle, odd jobs won't get you through forever," Stan reminded him. "You're gonna fall short."

"Our landlord is fairly understanding," his lips quirked into a smile. "He gives us a little leeway. But we know it won't last us forever, that's why both of us are looking for jobs when we can."

' _I don't see how you can with cocks shoved up your ass,_ ' Stan thought, rather bitterly. He sighed, looking up as their pizza came to their table. They backed up and let the waitress set it down before running off. Stan stared at the steam rising from it, completely lost. This day had been nothing but horrible revelations for him. But as bad as he saw it was, it couldn't be nearly as terrible as what Kenny and Kyle felt about the whole mess. They all reached forward and grabbed a slice, throwing them down onto their plates and hissing as it burnt their fingers. "Fuck!" Stan yelped.

"You think we'd know this by now after all these years," Kyle chortled. The other two laughed with him, their tension finally dying down in the slightest.

Kenny poked at his, retracting his finger and shaking it off again. "Dammit! Well fine, I'm gonna go piss while this shit cools down." He pecked Kyle's cheek real quick and Stan couldn't help but smirk at Kyle's faint blush crossing over his narrow cheekbones. Kenny stood up and stretched, heading towards the restroom on the other side of the restaurant. Stan watched him go, biting his lip. This was his chance.

"I gotta go, too," he stated after waiting for Kenny to get to the bathroom, standing up. "Watch the table, yeah?"

"Need me to watch your purse so no one steals your tampons?" he asked dryly.

"Yeah, otherwise you're in for the Red Sea when I stand up again," he smirked, rolling his eyes. "Be right back." He quickly got to his feet and followed after Kenny. He paused, letting a few kids run by with their parents out of the restaurant. He bit his lip, carefully thinking over anything that might get Kenny upset enough to knock his lights out.

Calling Kyle a whore was probably far out of the question.

He sighed, pushing open the door and walking in, finding Kenny already washing his hands. Ken looked at him and smirked. "Couldn't go by yourself?"

"Nah, I need to talk to you," he said, closing the door firmly behind him. Kenny looked at him questionably.

"About? If this is about donations, I ain't up for it because I ain't your little tax write of-"

"No," he cut him short. "Look..." his stance suddenly faltered and his face went up in flames. This was just as awkward as he thought it would be. "Look...ya know...um...your computer?"

"...Yeah?"

"And do you know how there's...internet on that computer?"

Kenny raised his brow questionably. "Yeesss..."

"And do you know how on that internet...you can find...videos of certain...thin-FUCK!" he screamed as Kenny slammed him back against the wall. He looked to see Kenny glaring at him with burning eyes.

"What did you find," he hissed, shaking him a bit.

Holy shit he was fucking furious.

Stan gulped, putting his hands up and grabbing Kenny's arms, tugging them off of him. "Look, you know what I found," he managed to say. Kenny's eye twitched, he looked fucking insane.

"What the FUCK, Stan!" he shouted.

"Hey, YOU put it online, not me!" Stan shouted back before taking a deep breath. He took off his hat, running his fingers through his hair as Kenny paced around the bathroom floor anxiously. "Ken," he said softly. Kenny looked up at him and Stan felt his stomach drop as he saw tears swimming the boy's eyes. "Ken..." he walked up, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?"

"What the fuck do you think?" he snapped. "We're poor and the only way we're making money is through that," he said, biting his lip and looking away. "No one wants our help with 'odd jobs'. We're too old or too young or too gay or...or whatever," he looked at the black-haired boy sadly. "We're in a bad spot, Dude."

Stan's shoulders dropped. "But...who's idea..."

"Kyle's," he shook his head, looking away. "It was Kyle's."

His jaw dropped. "No fucking way..."

He chuckled humorlessly. "Some guy...some guy stopped us when we were out walking one night. He...he offered Kyle fifty dollars for a blowjob..." he paused, looking up at him. "We're in such a tight spot," he said quietly.

"Why...who...what..." Stan fumbled for questions, too many darting through his mind for him to pick just one.

"That site that we put the videos on, they're actually profitable," he said. "You get so much money for how many views or whatever...one of the last videos we did, we got about three hundred dollars. Enough for about half our rent...But usually he just...'meets' people without the camera..." he looked down awkwardly.

Stan stood in silence for a few moments, unable to process this information. Kyle was a prostitute. _Kyle._ The one who spent all of high school yelling at him to study so _he_ wouldn't end up in this exact situation. His best friend that he thought he knew everything about. It was almost too much. Kenny was staring at him, looking terrified of whatever Stan's next words would be. "And...how do...you feel about this?" he asked quietly.

Kenny's fear dropped viciously and he glared at him. "I'm in love with it," he sneered. "I _love_ watching my boyfriend getting fucked and pushed around and choked and hurt by men we don't know. I _love_ having to pick him up after the whole thing and clean him up and not go after the fucks who hurt him. I love the fact that I haven't touched him in months because he's so fucking ashamed of himself. I fucking **LOVE** it, Stan!" he screeched, his voice echoing in the acoustics of the small restroom. His shoulders dropped immensely and he shook his head softly. "I don't know what to do," he admitted in a defeated tone. "We're poor but...but he can't do this. _We_ can't do this. I can't watch him do it and he won't let me take his place in the whole thing. Given no one wants me to, I've offered the other 'participants'," he rolled his eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because Kyle's a cute little guy and I'm a redneck who'd likely bite your dick off if you got it near my face," he shrugged. Stan couldn't necessarily argue with that.

"Look, Dude," he said, putting his arm around Kenny's shoulders. "You're right. You shouldn't have to go through this. Kyle especially. I mean...the thing I saw..."

"I'm guessing the new one?" he sighed tiredly. "He...he passed out after it," he said angrily. "Fuck, he was...a complete mess. I couldn't get him to calm down when he woke up. He just...couldn't stop freaking out, thinking I was gonna hurt him. He was completely delusional, ya know?"

Stan's face fell. "You have to stop this, Dude. Kyle's going to get really hurt one of these days. I mean, no offense but you don't have the qualification to help him if he's having episodes like that. You really need to stop."

"You think I don't know that?" he questioned. "You think that...that I want to keep doing this? It's Kyle that keeps bringing up the money, it's him that looks at our checkbooks and goes 'oh fuck, we need money or no food or no home'. Neither of us want this to keep going, Stan but until we find some other way for money then we're stuck," he sighed. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, shaking his head. "Yesterday...we met up with another one. The guy was...fucking crazy," he laughed dryly. "Tried to get Kyle to go home with him, saying shit like 'now he belonged to him'...this is just fucking insane."

"I doubt you're going to meet many reputable people in that field, Ken."

"Tell me about it," he grumbled, wiping his eyes and sniffling. "What the hell can I do, Dude? Aside from robbing a bank I'm shit out of options."

Stan opened his mouth to speak, biting his lip. "I wish you guys would have told me sooner," he sighs. "Maybe I could have worked something out with the old landlord and given you guys a place to crash while you got on your feet. My new one is some old bitch that had to have been widowed in like, 1910 or something," he rolled his eyes. "She won't let you stay with me." Kenny looked down and Stan bit his lip guiltily. "I mean...I don't have the money to give you," he said honestly. "And my parents won't give me money, neither will yours...I really don't know what to tell you, Dude."

Kenny looked at him with shining, somewhat conflicted eyes. "I appreciate you wanting to help, Stan," he said, though Stan could tell it took some forcing out on his part. "But...we'll figure something out. Hopefully more sooner than later."

"Hopefully," Stan agreed. He clasped Kenny in a hug and the blonde sighed, leaning his head down on Stan's shoulder.

"Thanks for not mentioning it in front of Kyle," he said softly. He pulled back and his eyes clouded up once again. "He would have been humiliated if you of all people knew."

"I think I know my best friend well enough to know some tact," he forced out a smirk. "I'll help you figure something out, all right?"

"Thanks, Man," he smiled sadly before Stan patted his back and started leading him out the bathroom door. They looked over towards their booth, both raising their brows as they found Kyle wasn't there. They hurried over, searching for him.

"What the hell," Stan murmured, scratching at his hair.

"Kyle?" Kenny shouted, peering around the corner of the wall down towards the small arcade center. "Dude, where the fuck is he?" he asked. Their waitress passed by, grabbing their half-empty glasses and refilling them. "Ma'am," Kenny asked, "Did you see where the other one sitting here went?"

"Hm?" she asked, looking at him before blinking and laughing. "Oh yes! He was just escorted out by a few older men," she smiled.

"What?" Stan asked.

"Oh shit!" Kenny didn't give time for her to so much as think about repeating herself before pushing past her and sprinting towards the door.

"Huh!" she scoffed. "Well that was rude," she pouted at Stan. "I think he made me spill soda on myself."

"Sorry," he said, grabbing his wallet and throwing her twenty dollars. "Go hit the dry-cleaners," he told her before turning on his heel and following Kenny out the door. He ran out, looking around and finding the blonde a good way down the street, looking around frantically.

"KYLE?" he called out. Stan ran up beside him, looking around with him.

"Who the hell would come 'escort' Kyle out? Not another customer I hope?" he looked at him unamused.

"No, a previous one," he mumbled, looking around in every direction frantically. He paused and Stan followed his stare, landing on a rather large man staring at them from an alley. "Hey! HEY YOU!" Kenny shouted, sprinting towards him with Stan on his heels. Stan stared at the man, vaguely recognizing him from somewhere. The man smirked, walking down into the alley as the two of them closed in on him. "Get back here!" Kenny screamed before they slid to a stop outside the alley, both of them feeling their stomachs lurch as they found Kyle being held by a monster of a man, his arm wrapped tightly around the boy's throat. Kyle's fingers were clutched around his sleeve trying to tug him off while looking at the two of them with terrified, flickering eyes.

"Hello," the one they followed smiled. Stan and Kenny moved in closer to one another, finding the group of five rather-angry looking men staring down on them. Stan blinked in faint recognition. These were the fuckers from the video he found...if they were here, this couldn't be good. They both locked eyes on Kyle, who was struggling to breathe in his panic.

"Let him go," Kenny demanded.

"No no no," the man shook his head. "You owe us something first."

Stan looked over, seeing Kenny's arms shaking with fury. "I told you, it would take longer than expected for the money to come in," he snapped. "I don't have your cut."

The man holding Kyle squeezed around his neck at his words. Kyle cried out airily, clawing frantically at his arm.

"STOP!" Kenny screamed, tearing at his hair with glistening eyes. Stan just looked between all of them, completely at a loss for what to do.

"We want our money, Kid," the first man demanded.

"I don't have it yet!" he insisted. "The fucking minute I get it, I'll give it to you, I told you that when we made our deal!"

The man stared at him before chuckling in a way that made the boys shiver. He stepped forward, grabbing Kenny's collar and ripping him towards himself. "I'll tell you what," he smirked. "We'll give you 24 more hours, but only because your boyfriend over there was just so good at what he did." Kenny's face fell darkly at that. "And if we don't have it by then," the man continued, "We'll make sure that he plays that part again for us. But this time, he won't be able to walk for a month. Got it?" Kenny's lips pressed firmly as he pushed out of the man's grip.

The man just smirked, nodding to the one holding Kyle. He threw Kyle out of his hold into the side of a dumpster beside him, the boy's head colliding against the metal in a deafening clang. He screamed out, his hand flying to his head as he curled up on the ground. Stan looked at Kenny who was staring down at the redhead with misty eyes. The blonde looked back up at the men as they started walking away, looking nothing short of chasing them down with a gun if he had the ability.

He dove down to Kyle's side, picking him up and leaning him against his chest, taking off his hat and looking at where he was hit. "Shit, he's bleeding," he murmured, wiping at a trickle of blood crawling down the boy's cheek. Kyle sniffled miserably, hiding his face in Kenny's chest, shaking and trying desperately not to sob. Kenny gently pet his hair and back, holding onto him and leaning his head atop of his, looking back at Stan with tired eyes.

"We're in a tight spot," he repeated softly.

Stan kneeled down beside the two of them, staring at him intently. "Kenny. Why do you owe them money?"

"I-" he paused, looking down as Kyle shook his head against him, squeezing his arms. "Kyle, he knows," he said, kissing his head lightly. Kyle looked over past his arm at Stan, his eyes completely glazed over with tears and his face flushed over with humiliation.

"How...why...oh god," he turned away again into Kenny's chest, trying to hide.

Kenny just sighed, squeezing him lightly. "That first guy that was talking, he found us first. He said if Kyle was...uh...good enough, he wanted to 'share' him with his little fuckin' pals," he muttered. "When we told him we were going to film it, they demanded we give them a cut of the profits. It was either that or walk away with no money at all so we said we would."

"But you don't even know how much you would make," Stan said. "Why the living hell would you go with that?"

"Kyle averaged out our usual profits and added in the popularity of the category and stuff," Kenny shrugged. "We gave them an estimate of what we would make."

"Well...well how much do you owe them then?" he asked slowly.

Kenny bit his lip, "Around six hundred dollars."

Stan's jaw dropped. "Six hundred dollars," he repeated.

"And we won't get the money for this video for about a month. I told them that but they're fucking coke-heads or some shit. They wanted it within a week but we just don't have that," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Shit," he shook his head, helping Kyle get to his feet and holding him tightly. Kyle looked over at Stan, his eyes completely deadened in sadness and embarrassment.

"How did you find it?" he whispered.

He stared at him a bit before shrugging. "Happened to browse the video category and...and the screencap looked like you...and I just had to see if it was or not."

Kyle looked down and away, still huddled into Kenny's form, his slender fingers clinging onto his coat. "Do...do you hate me?" he asked softly.

"Kyle..." Kenny tried before Kyle tensed up and stopped him.

"Do you?" he asked again, staring straight through Stan's eyes.

Stan looked at him sadly, "Dude, of course I don't. I don't care if you're doing this or you're a chemist, I'm still gonna be here," he walked over, throwing his arm around Kyle's shoulders. "I'll help you two find the money," he promised. "Unfortunately I only have about fifty bucks to spare as of now, but that brings you down to five hundred fifty to get at least."

"How are we going to make five hundred dollars before tomorrow?" Kyle asked quietly. "We can barely make that in a month."

"We'll find a way," Kenny promised him, holding onto him tightly and kissing his forehead. "Those fucks won't touch you again." Kyle just took a shuddery breath, nuzzling against the two of them as his shaking picked up, his fingers trembling as they remained clutched around Kenny's parka. Stan and Kenny looked at him before staring at each other worriedly. Stan bit his lip, rubbing Kyle's shoulder as they remained silent in that empty alley.

He couldn't help but feel guilty for this whole thing. If he'd caught onto their troubles sooner, if he'd been able to help them find a way to get out of debt and away from what they were doing now...He sighed. He knew it wasn't all his fault but he couldn't help feeling that string of guilt as he stared at the two broken boys. They were in more trouble than Stan could comprehend for himself. But now he was being pulled into their twisted, depraved world as well. And he knew well enough that the only way to get himself out, was to pull the two of them out with him.


	3. Chapter 3

Stan and Kenny sat in his and Kyle's apartment on the couch, staring blankly at the wall, both of them with folded hands between their knees. They'd sent Kyle who was far too shaken up to do much in the means of planning to bed. It'd been nothing but silence since they'd gotten back to the apartment almost three hours ago. Each passing moment felt like a heavy countdown to what almost felt like the inevitable.

The situation about them felt too bizarre, almost surreal. It hung over them as a thick cloud of despair, the air weighed down and tensive around them. The back part of Stan's mind couldn't help but wish he had his inhaler on him in all the mess.

"What about the police?" Stan finally offered quietly, staring over at the frazzled blonde.

He shook his head. "No. Because in all technicality, Ky's a prostitute," he looked back at him exhaustively. "I can't get him thrown in jail for this, Stan. I can't. I know he'd be safer there than with those fuckers looking for him but..." he trailed off, scratching at his hair irritably.

"Why don't we hide him?" he shrugged. "What if we take him somewhere and have him-"

"No," he bit sharply, shaking his head. "The first guy wasn't filmed, he just paid. He has that over us, he could go to the cops and it wouldn't take long for them to figure out what we've been up to and arrest Kyle."

Stan slunk down into the sofa and returned his sight back to the wall. "Fuck," he managed to breathe out. "I guess we're stuck with just finding the money then."

"No, Kyle and I are stuck with findin' the money," he grumbled tiredly. "You don't have to be a part of this."

Stan glared over at him, "Look, Ken," he bit firmly. "I know that this is killing your ego or whatever but I'm in this now, too. You really fucking think I can just go home and go 'oh they'll be fine, it's not my problem?'" He rolled his eyes, "You two are my best friends, I'm not gonna just sit back and let this shit happen without trying to help you."

A few moments of tense silence passed between the two of them before Kenny rose his eyes up to meet Stan's and he nodded slowly. "Okay," he whispered nearly inaudibly. Stan couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for how he handled that, this was obviously something that was pulling Kenny in every direction. He scooted over closer to Kenny on the couch and threw his arm around his shoulders gently.

"I know this is killing you," he said, forcing himself to adapt a much softer tone than the situation at hand was presenting him with. "We're gonna figure it out, all right? They won't touch him, I promise." Kenny just nodded, his teeth grating over his lip furiously.

"Guys?" a soft, timid voice popped up behind them. They whipped their heads around to see Kyle standing there at the doorframe of their bedroom, looking nothing short of utterly exhausted.

"Ky, go back to bed," Kenny urged.

He shook his head and made his way over to the couch, sitting on the opposite side of the blonde. "You really think that I can sleep right now?" he muttered, leaning into Ken's side. He looked up at his boyfriend worriedly. "Kenny...what are we gonna do?"

He shook his head slowly, "I...I have no idea."

Kyle's sharp eyes flickered to Stan before looking back up at him embarrassedly. "Maybe we should just use...the phone," he winced.

Stan raised his brow, looking between the two of them confusedly. "The phone?"

Kenny groaned and leaned back against the sofa, beating his head against the back lightly. "Kyle I don't want you to-"

"What the fuck other choice do we have at this point, Ken?" he snapped a bit. "I mean, fuck, I don't want me to either but right now we're up shit creek."

"What phone?!" Stan repeated.

Kyle looked at him and sighed heavily. "We have one of those pay-by-the-minute phones for...uh..." he blushed and bit his lip a bit, his leaf-green eyes flickering down to his lap shyly.

"Customers," Kenny finished exhaustively. "They text if they want time with Kyle or sometimes we just take the initiative if we're in a particularly bad time."

"Can't get much worse than it is," Kyle mumbled quietly, getting to his feet and heading over to their kitchen. Stan watched confusedly as he tore open a drawer and shuffled around down in it, pulling a small black phone out and bobbing it in his hand tiredly. He brushed his hair back a bit and pulled it open, turning and leaning against the cabinets. "Lucky me," he grumbled. "I have about ten callers tonight."

"Kyle you can't-" Kenny started before being shot down with a furious gaze from the small redhead.

"What the hell do I do then, Kenny?" he spat. "It's either go suck these people off, get raped tomorrow by those fuckers, or go to jail. Unfortunately, one of those things is a lot better sounding than the others."

Kenny's face fell miserably into his palms and he shook his head, tilted down at the floor. "Jesus fucking Christ," he whimpered.

Stan just looked, awe-struck as he glanced between the two of them. This almost seemed backwards. Kenny was breaking, Kyle was trying to figure out the problem and was willing to do _anything_ to do it. Kyle sighed again and continued glancing through the phone, his thumbs flying along the pads anxiously. He shut it and walked back over to the couch, sitting down on the arm and running his fingers gently through Kenny's hair.

"It'll be okay," he said softly.

"No it fucking won't!" Kenny refused to lift his head out of his hands.

"We...we'll figure it out," Kyle said in a croaking voice. "We always do. We're gonna be just fine, Kenny. I promise."

Kenny finally looked up and stared at him in disbelief. "Kyle I don't give a _fuck_ about the money. I don't care about 'us', I care about _you._ "

"He's right," Stan interjected. "Kyle, you're going to just end up getting seriously hurt."

He blinked at the two of them before shrugging a bit and running his fingers through his hair. "Well, unless one of you has a better idea that'll get us what we need in about..." he glanced over at the clock and groaned irritably, "20 hours, then I think we just have to live with what's happening right now."

"You shouldn't be living like this period," Stan sighed. Tired blue eyes raised up to meet the redhead's and he bit his lip. He knew better, though. All three of them knew better. They had no alternatives, it was just going to have to happen. "I'm sorry you have to do this, Kyle. I really wish I could help you."

His shoulders slumped and he continued running his fingers through Kenny's golden hair. "It's fine, Stan. We got ourselves into it, one day we'll find a way out." He paused as a flurry of beeps fell in through the room, glancing at the phone and frowning in disgust.

"What is it?" Kenny asked softly.

"Sent them a group message, told 'em whoever offered the most I'd come see them," he muttered, reading over the texts. He sighed and shuddered a bit, "Guess I'm off to downtown." he stood and walked over to their bedroom, beginning to strip out of his pajamas and back into his jeans.

"How...how much?" Kenny asked.

"Two hundred," Kyle replied. "It's not all we need but it's a start. Maybe I can find another two willing to pay that much tonight."

Kenny got to his feet and walked over to him, wrapping his arms around him gently. "I'm so sorry," he said quietly, rubbing his face in his red hair. "God, Ky, I'm so sorry."

Kyle pulled back and pressed his lips against Kenny's gently. "It'll be okay," he forced a smile across his pale face, brushing some of Ken's hair back. "I'll be fine. Let's just...just let me get this over with and maybe that factory you applied for will call you back," he sniffled a bit, his eyes glossing over with tears. "Maybe...maybe we'll both get lucky and this'll be the last time I ever have to do this, hm?" he leaned up and kissed him again, pulling back with heavy trembles erupting throughout his system.

"Want me to come with you?"

He shook his head. "No. You stay here and see if you two can figure out any other way to get what we need, or get some sleep, you both need it..." he paused and took a deep breath, "This is that one guy on 7th, he's not dangerous," he shrugged. "Plus it's usually quick so I can find someone else fairly shortly." Kenny looked away from him and bit his lip, his eyes swimming with tears. Kyle grabbed his face and pulled him down, staring deep into his eyes. "Kenny, I'll be fine," he said firmly. "I love you," he said, kissing him once more before pulling out of his grip and walking towards the door. "I'll text you in about...," he glanced at the time once more, "forty minutes. If I don't, I'm going to be at his usual place. You know what to do."

Kenny nodded solemnly as Stan just sat there flabbergasted. They had a goddamn system. They had repeat customers that Kyle knew their addresses just by their fucking texts. Jesus fucking Christ it was like watching a dirty business meeting unfolding before his eyes.

"I love you," Kenny whispered.

Kyle smiled softly at him before turning and walking out, shutting the door behind him quietly. The silence echoed around the two left in the apartment, Stan looking back and seeing Kenny doing everything in his power to keep himself under control.

"He...he does that every time you know," he murmured.

Stan cocked his head a bit, "Does what?"

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving the door. "Every goddamn time he says 'maybe this will be the last one'..." he paused, grating his lip between his teeth. "When the fuck is it going to actually be the last one, Stan?" he asked, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions.

Stan's shoulders heaved, barely able to make himself believe the fact that he'd just watched his best friend walk out the door to fuck some stranger. "I don't know, Kenny," he finally replied.

"I mean fuck!" Ken continued, walking in front of him and pacing around on the living room carpet. "Every goddamn minute that he's not out with some fucker we're applying for jobs! Why the hell will no one help us? Why are we this fucking low on the fucking totem pole I mean-" he stopped, his chest heavily rising and falling as he stared at the ceiling. "Why us?" he whispered, looking back at Stan with devastated eyes. "What the fuck did we even do?"

Stan's mouth gaped a bit at him. He wasn't used to Kenny of all people being emotionally distraught. He usually brushed everything that went wrong off with nothing more than a sneer and a smartass remark. This was uncharted territory. He knew how to handle Kyle when he started getting emotional, when he thought the world was collapsing on top of him, but Kenny? Not so much.

He bit his lip, watching as Kenny stared back at him with a pleading gaze, like maybe Stan held the one phrase that would save them. "I don't know what to tell you," he whispered. "You didn't do anything wrong. Things just aren't working out right now. They'll get better, I promise."

Kenny's shoulders drooped and he sniffled a bit, looking down at the carpet and rubbing his eyes with his jacket sleeve. "God I hope you're right," he sniveled.

Stan just stared back at him, a heavy feeling sinking in his chest. He knew the words of warm, lathering comfort were nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction to the situation. He had no idea where things would go from here. He hadn't the slightest _clue_ of what could possibly be around the corner for the two of them.

He hoped that he was right, too.

* * *

Kenny's leg bounced impatiently as he stared at the clock. Stan looked at a notepad in his hand, a bold title of 'Ideas' strewn across the top margin. So far, nothing had come to fruition in the list. It seemed nearly hopeless.

"Where is he?" Kenny shook a bit, looking down at the phone in his hand. "He's always fucking punctual to the minute!"

"Calm down, calm down," Stan cooed. "I'm sure he...just got caught up," he winced. He knew that Kenny would have none of that, and he wasn't so sure that he could either. He knew Kyle well enough to know that if he said he'd get in contact with you at a certain time, he always would come Hell or high water. "It's only about ten minutes past what he said," he tried to calm his nerves. "It's okay."

"And if it's not?" he looked at Stan with a steely blue glare.

He paused and shrugged, "Kyle said 'you know what to do', didn't he?"

He nodded, getting to his feet.. "Yeah. Yeah I need to go find this person's apartment again." he sighed and looked down at Stan exhaustively. "You can either come or you can crash here," he said softly.

The noirette rolled his eyes and stood up beside him, "What the fuck do you think I'm gonna do?"

Kenny attempted a small smirk, "I was just giving you the option is-" he paused as a tone rang through the living room and they both slumped in relief. Kenny glanced down, his momentary relaxation fading off his face despairingly fast and Stan could feel the beginnings of panic starting to settle into the room.

"Ken?"

"' _Sunset Motels, room 58. Come get your whore.'"_ he read before looking at Stan, whose face fell as deeply as his own. "Fuck!" he snarled, quickly running towards the door and ripping it open. Stan was on him like fire on a match as they headed down the apartment complex, their feet pounding against the blacktop and echoing around them in the dead of night.

"Where is Sunset?" Stan asked breathlessly.

"'Down the road about two miles, can we use your truck?!" Kenny looked at him desperately.

"Yeah, come on," he jerked his head and they veered off towards the parking lot, Stan's fingers fumbling in his jeans pocket and grabbing his keys. They ran up to his hand-me-down green pick up and he hurriedly unlocked the doors for the both of them, each clambering quickly into their respective sides. Stan didn't so much as think before slamming the key into the ignition and tearing out of the parking lot, both of their eyes trained desperately on the road.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Kenny screamed, slapping his hand against the dashboard. "I knew I should've gone with him! Goddammit!"

"I thought he said this guy wasn't dangerous!" Stan raised his brow.

"Apparently we thought wrong," Kenny gritted his teeth. "Probably didn't do anything before because I was always there. Guess he didn't want a wit...ness..." the word hit them both like a ton of bricks. "Stan...hurry. For the love of fuck get us there as _fast_ as you fucking can!" he plead.

Stan slammed his foot down onto the acceleration, speeding past a stop sign and reflexively glancing in his mirror for the cops. "Where is it?"

"Past Shakey's about two blocks, we should be there in a minute," Kenny replied in a daze, grabbing onto the handle of the passenger side door. "Oh god, Stan what if they-"

"No!" Stan cut him off. "He's fine, Kenny. We're going to get there and he's going to be fine. Maybe he just fell asleep after. Maybe...maybe..." he couldn't think of any other possibilities that didn't result in the thing that the two of them feared most.

"There!" Kenny pointed to a sign coming up on the horizon. "Jesus fucking Christ, hurry!" he yelled in a blind panic. Stan sped towards it, only releasing the acceleration as they approached the parking lot, braking harshly and listening with Kenny to the tires squeal as he managed to make a sharp turn into the lot. He threw the truck into park sprawled out along four parking spaces and they both leaped out.

"Room 58, right?!" Stan asked.

"Right," he confirmed, sprinting down towards the east side of the building. They ran along the side, staring at room numbers, finding 58 on the second floor. They rushed up the metal staircase and Kenny threw open the door.

Both of them scanned around, finding Kyle sitting on the sides of his legs naked on the bed, handcuffed to the metal headboard, a blindfold and gag around his head. The boy's head sharply turned towards them and they could make out a muffled 'Kenny?' under the fabric shoved into his mouth.

"Kyle, oh god," Kenny breathed out brokenly, rushing over to him and diving onto the bed. He ripped off the blindfold, revealing a black eye beginning to form under his brow and the blonde scowled viciously. He tore out the gag, sending Kyle into a coughing fit, his tongue darting out of his mouth as he tried to remoisten it. "Kyle, what happened?" he asked, looking around for a key to the handcuffs.

"He...he didn't want to pay," Kyle wheezed. "New guy..." he coughed again. Stan rushed over to the bathroom, grabbing one of the motel's plastic cups from the shelving beside the sink and filling it with water. He hurried back over to Kyle and tipped it towards his lips. Kyle blinked at it for a moment in a daze before accepting it past his teeth, drinking it down hurriedly. He licked his lips and looked up at Stan with a forced crooked smile, "Thanks."

"What do you mean 'new guy'?" Stan asked him, helping Kenny look around for the key.

"After...after the first one." Kyle closed his eyes trying desperately to collect his thoughts. "We finished really quick and he paid then h-he told me he found someone else for me. Called him and everything and told me to meet him here..." his shoulders slumped and he took a wavering breath. "We finished and he caught me off guard when he hit me...," he paused and bit his lip. "He took the money," he whispered. "He took the goddamn $200 that the first guy gave me..." he looked up at Ken with teary eyes. "Kenny I'm so sorry."

Ken tore his head away from his searching and launched forward, wrapping his arms around his frail form. "No. No, Kyle. Don't you fucking be sorry, I'm just so fucking glad you're alive," he shuddered and hugged him tighter, kissing his neck. "We'll figure it out, okay?"

Kyle sniffled and nodded against him, nestling into his blonde hair and cuddling against his shoulder. Stan stared at the two of them, a part of him fucking amazed at them. They were so strong together in this. They were worried about nothing else but each other in the whole mess. Fuck, Stan figured this would be something that would blow any couple apart, but their reserve with each other was definitely something admirable.

Stan definitely knew that a Super Best Friends with benefits situation was never going to happen now, regardless of the situation they were thrown into. If those two ever split up, it'd be the first sign of the apocalypse at this rate.

He blinked out of his thoughts and kept looking around the room. "Ky, do you know where he put the key?"

He shook his head, "He blindfolded me first, but I think I heard him opening a drawer?" he winced. "I'm not sure, I was panicking a lot."

Kenny ran his fingers through his red hair and kissed his forehead. "We'll find it, hang on," he got off the bed and started tearing through the dresser drawers as Stan took the nightstand. Kyle watched the both of them, straightening up and glancing around, his face dropping.

"Did...did he take my fucking clothes?!" he shrieked.

They both scanned around the floor and Kenny let out an aggravated groan. "Yeah, Kyle. I think he did."

The boy's shoulders drooped and he leaned back against the railing confining him, staring up at the ceiling. "Great. What a night," he groaned, beating his head softly against the wall behind him. He looked down and over at Stan and took a heavy breath. "Stan?"

"Yeah, Ky?" he asked, still rummaging, throwing a copy of the Bible out of his way. He definitely did not need to see something religious and clean while his best friend was sitting naked on the bed after having sex for money. Mary Magdalene or not, Jesus probably wouldn't think that was okay.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. Stan looked at him and raised his brow and he elaborated, "I'm sorry that you got dragged into this. Trust me, I _never_ wanted you to know. Obviously," he shifted around uncomfortably, his exposed self just feeling like way too much to handle right now.

"Well this isn't something I particularly wanted to know either," Stan gave him a small chuckle. "But I'm glad that I'm here to try to help you at least," he shrugged, turning back to his search. "At least now you have two people to punch someone's face in if they try to hurt you," he said softly.

Kyle opened his mouth to say something but opted to just sigh again, letting his eyes drop onto the comforter beneath him, scowling at some of the residue left from the man he'd been with. "I hate this," he muttered under his breath.

"Huh?" Stan raised his brow at him again.

"Found it!" Kenny announced, holding it in the air and rushing over to Kyle's side. "Your phone is in there, too, so at least we don't have to worry about him going to the cops," he kissed his cheek as he undid each of his wrists. Kyle hissed a bit and brought his arms around, rubbing the skin gently. Kenny slid off his parka and wrapped it around his shoulders lovingly. Kyle sighed, slipping his arms through the sleeves and zipping it up on his skinny form.

"This is one of the few times I'm glad you're taller than me," he smirked a teeny bit. Kenny gave him a small one back and pecked his lips as Stan moved to sit on the edge of the bed while Kyle continued rubbing his raw skin, letting one hand come up to his face, his fingers genially touching his shiner and he winced. "Well that's going to take a few weeks to get better," he mumbled miserably.

"Kyle what did you say earlier?"

He looked at him confusedly before letting out a soft 'oh'. "I said I hate this," he shrugged. "I just wish we could get jobs like real people instead of me...well...doing this," he gestured to himself. "It sucks, Stan. It just...it really really sucks," he looked at him pathetically.

He nodded, "I can imagine."

Kyle chuckled humorlessly and shook his head at him. "No. No you can't even _begin_ to imagine it. I just hope we get jobs soon and well paying ones because I'll probably need therapy to start repressing all this bullshit," he drooped exhaustively and went back to staring at the comforter. "I can't believe I lost the money," he bit his lip and growled.

"Hey," Kenny said, brushing his hair back. "It's okay. There's got to be something we can do...maybe someone owes us a favor that we're not thinking of."

"Yeah but who would have what we need and be willing to just hand it over like that?" Stan questioned leaning his chin into his palm.

Kyle was silent, staring at the blanket still. He could feel the rubbed, reddened skin of his wrists, his eye heating from where the man decked him. He could feel his body stretched and still quaking with the after-effects of his violation. He let out a heavy sigh and looked between the two of them and shook his head. They watched him curiously as he muttered, "There's only one person in the world who we can get to help us right now..." he paused and bit his lip, growling under his breath, "But I'm willing to bet it's going to cost me a lot more than a measly $600."


	4. Chapter 4

There were many words that Eric Cartman could use to describe himself: Charismatic, charming, manipulative, and an overall brilliant strategist when it came right down to it. At the tender age of 22, he was already well on his way of moving up the economic ladder of the piss poor town of South Park. He had plenty stashed away between his job as the manager of the local architect firm that he'd been able to snag out from under the old owner's nose in a matter of months. He also had plenty of pet projects stashed underneath his belt; drug deals and buying teenagers liquor and smokes with compound interest payments really wasn't something that was hard for someone like him to manage. He had plenty enough to up and move out of his mother's house, but had opted to stay behind with her to help her with her own bills and be able to keep a tighter hold on his assets until she was off and well on her own again.

She considered it nothing more than her little 'poopsy-kins' caring for her so much that he couldn't bear to leave her. Perhaps there was some truth in that, but Cartman always knew that his house was where everything went well enough on their own. He could easily avoid any suspicion of his little projects from his mother, and with no one else living in the vicinity and the police constantly under her whorish thumb, he had little to worry about.

He knew just what he was doing, and he couldn't help but relish in his abilities. It especially helped that he was so much better off than anyone else they'd gone to school with over the years. The only one possibly doing better was Token, and that was due to nothing more than his parents emptying their wallets for him. That wasn't how Cartman operated. He liked to get his money on his own terms. He'd take hand-outs for sure, but there was nothing quite so satisfying as watching someone hand over their hard earned money for something that he devised. It was absolutely intoxicating.

"Poopsy-kins!" his mother called from down the stairs.

"What?" he shot back, not so much as glancing from his computer screen filled with inventory notes for his firm. Even on a Sunday it was nothing but business for him, and he loved it.

"Your little friends are here to see you, Sweetie!"

He cocked his brow, glancing down at the time on his screen. It was only nine a.m. Stan, Kyle, and Kenny never came to see him before noon, if at all anymore. Stan was always busy with his shitty job as a bartender and Kyle and Ken were doing whatever the fuck it was they always did. He couldn't help but smirk a bit. They needed him for something. This was going to be fun, he could just tell.

"Send 'em up!" he yelled back, minimizing his notes and beginning to pack away his ledger and pens neatly on his desk. He heard the three of them tromping up the stairs, noticing that each step was very slow and cautious.

They _really_ needed him for something. Fantastic.

The door opened and he turned his desk chair around, watching as the three of them piled in his room, each one of them looking utterly exhausted with dulled eyes. "Wellllll if it isn't Kahl, Stan, and Kinny," he smirked, leaning back and folding his hands on top of each other. His eyes focused on a dark shiner resting on the crest of Kyle's brow and couldn't help but raise his own in a giddy curiosity. "Just what can I do for you?"

Stan sighed and shut the door behind them, all three of them moving to sit on Cartman's bed. "Cartman," he said softly, his eyes flickering to Kyle and Kenny, Eric noticed, "We need a loan."

He scoffed a bit and broke out in a soft chuckle, "Oh do you? And just what is it you need it for?"

Kenny bit his lip, glancing at Kyle, and Cartman's stomach couldn't help but flitter in excitement. It was all for Kyle. He'd fucked something up. It was almost too much of a victory for the heavyweight to not just start dancing right then and there. "Cartman, it's not important _what_ it's for," Ken said tiredly. "We need six hundred dollars and we need it before seven tonight."

He cocked his head, "And just what happens at seven tonight?"

"It doesn't _matter,_ " he bit coldly. "Will you loan us it or not?"

He shifted a bit in his chair and bounced his leg, staring at the three of them, his deep amber eyes lingering on the redhead who was blushing madly and looking down at his carpet with a deep anger on his face. "Do you know how I got all the money I have, Kinny? By not letting people fuck around with me," he cocked his brow. "I don't make deals without knowing exactly what it is I'm getting myself into."

"You sell fucking drugs, Cartman," Stan said irritably. "You do enough shit that involves you not knowing everything that happens, so don't give us that."

He chortled, "You think I don't handle that shit myself?" he asked. "I make all the deals, Stan. I don't have any middleman. That way all the profits are mine and mine alone. Now, I want you to tell me exactly what it is this money is for and then I will consider writing you a check. Six hundred dollars is an awful lot to just give out for no reason, you know."

Kyle's eyes finally rose and met that of the heavyweights and Cartman's chest twinged in anticipation. The redhead looked like he was on the brink of tears, a face that the brunette hadn't seen on him in quite some time. "Cartman," he breathed out slowly. "You know that I wouldn't be here asking you for money if it wasn't important. My pride is fucking dying right now," he let out a heavy, saddened sigh, looking back up at him exhaustively. "I _really_ need it or I'm going to be in a lot of trouble."

The grin that broke over Cartman's face was enough to send the three on the bed recoiling back a bit. It was devious and smart, a hint of sadism lingering on the thin, pale lips. He laughed lowly, "Oh, so...it's about you being a whore, is it, Kahl?" he looked at him with a glint in his eyes. Kyle's shoulders fell and his lip trembled a bit, his already-pasty skin blanching over as his green eyes focused squarely into his.

"How...how did..."

"Some of _your_ customers are also mine," he smirked. "Heard a lot about you through the grapevine, Kahl."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Kenny muttered, slamming his face into his palms and shaking his head.

"Told me alllll about you they did," he continued taunting, watching Kyle's form sinking slowly as Stan's hand fell onto his shoulder, rubbing it comfortably. "Didn't believe it at first. Told me about how they fucked this 'cute' little redhead with a blonde boyfriend watching to make sure nothin' happened to him," he smirked. He glanced over at Kenny who raised his head a bit, "From that shiner that Kahl's sporting, it seems like you didn't do a very good job."

The blonde growled, moving to get off the bed and lunge towards him before Kyle grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. "Kenny, don't," he said sharply. "We need the fucking money and we won't get it if you knock his lights out."

"Very smart," Cartman snorted.

Kenny snarled and clasped an arm around Kyle's waist, pulling him in protectively. "Will you give us the money or not, Cartman?"

He looked between the three of them before settling back on Kyle. "Not until I hear the whole story of why you owe someone so much money."

"Cartman..." Stan growled.

"No," Kyle interjected quietly, patting Stan's leg a bit. "He's right. I'd want to know, too..." he looked up at the victory dancing in Cartman's eyes and shuddered a bit. "We filmed a video, Cartman. We put it on a site for some money and the others involved in it want their cut even though we won't have the profits until next month. They gave us until tonight to get it to them..." he trailed off, looking out the window and grating his lip.

"And what happens if you _don't_ comply with them?"

He took a frustrated breath through his nose, refusing to meet his eyes, "They're going to find me and hurt me."

"Ah, you'll get raped is what you're saying," Cartman chuckled as Kyle flinched uncomfortably, getting to his feet and pacing back and forth in front of the bed, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "And you can't go to the cops because they'll find your prostitution ring, is that right?"

"Yes," he spat bitterly, leaning against Kenny who rubbed his hip comfortingly.

Stan looked between the two of them and hated every ounce of what was playing out in front of him. He knew that Kyle had to hate it even more, though. There were few things that Kyle couldn't stand: Bananas, seeing his friends hurt, bigotry, and most of all, appearing vulnerable to Eric fucking Cartman. The boy could practically feel Kyle's ego dissipating into the vast space of the crowded room. He looked up to still see Cartman pacing, his stomach settling uncomfortably as he noticed a grin playing on his face still. It wasn't his usual relishing smile, it was his planning one. The one where he was going to use every power he had to get what he wanted. It never ended well for Kyle and Stan knew well enough that this situation called for the worst of all possible scenarios.

"Well just what do you plan to do for me if I give you all this money, Kahl?" he looked over at him, stopping his pacing and crossing his arms, standing in front of the redhead.

Kyle looked up at him and took a deep breath. "What do you want?"

He chuckled lowly, "Not even going to offer just to pay it back with interest?"

"I know that's a waste of my time," Kyle glared. "I know you well enough that you already know what it is you want from me, so what the fuck is it?!"

He nodded a bit, his lips crooked and amusement playing on his flabby features. He was loving every bit of this power. It was easy enough to play the financial game, but putting his rival in his place was a powerful victory that he just didn't get to fiddle with often enough. "Six months, one for every one hundred dollars." He said flatly.

They all three raised their brows, "Six months of what?" Kenny questioned lowly.

His lips parted, a dark grin passing over his face. "Six months of Kahl working for _me._ "

"What, like at your firm or something?" Stan blinked.

He shook his head and scoffed a bit, "Like I'd let the Jew anywhere near my clean business. No, no, he'll be working the _streets_ for me."

The three of them stared at him with their jaws dropped. Kyle began quaking violently between rage and fear, "Y-you want me to be your _whore_?!"

He nodded, leaning back up from them and beginning to pace again. "I think that it's going to be a fair trade all around, Kahl." He looked over to see the three of them still in stunned silence and grinned smugly. "You see, my little drug connections are pretty diverse," he explained. "I can make you into the most wanted 'escort' in all of the little fag community that I'm involved in."

"Kyle is NOT going to be a fucking whore!" Kenny spat.

"Too late for that," he snorted. He watched Kyle's burning face fall with an amused smirk. "Besides, the way I figure it, you have three choices, Kahl: Either you stick with me and stay protected from this shit happening again, you go find someone desperate enough to stick their dick up your ass right now for six hundred dollars, or you let that little threat of your come to fruition. What'll it be?"

Kyle blinked at him slowly, his mouth fumbling a bit in the midst of his loss, "I...Protected how?" he barely whispered.

Stan and Kenny shot their heads over at him, "What are you _doing_?" Stan hissed. "Don't give him the option!"

Kyle looked at him with heavy eyes and Stan could feel his heart sinking at the sight of them. He hated seeing Kyle merely have a bad day, seeing this bullshit just took the cake. "Stan...what else can I do?" his voice cracked a bit. "I got fucking tied up and mugged last night...and I'm not getting out of this until either Ken or I finds a job..."

"Exactly," Cartman cut in. "Now," he sat back in his chair, wheeling it up in front of them. He leaned down and clasped his hands between his legs, looking up at Kyle amusedly. "You know me well enough, Kahl. You know that I know exactly how to play any field that I set myself up in. And I've been waiting for the opportunity to start my own little prostitution ring, and you seem like the perfect candidate to start with."

Kyle glared at him a bit, his cheeks burning fiercely. "Protected. How?" he repeated, a bitter taste on his tongue as he did so.

The brunette gestured to Kenny and Stan, "Well, these two of course. They will be enlisted as your bodyguards. Every customer that you have will go through myself before so much as talking to you, and you know I know how to get the dirt on anyone. I'll even let Kinny be with me to pass people through the velvet ropes if he wants."

Stan groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly, "Cartman I have a job, I can't-"

"When you can't, Kinny will," Cartman interjected. "And I _know_ that Kinny will feel better if his job is to protect the Jew, isn't that right, Poor Boy?"

Kenny took a deep angry breath through his nose, staring at the boy with such ferocious intensity that Kyle's comforting hand rubbing his back couldn't even be felt. They were running out of options and quick, but the mere idea of letting Cartman hold the reins over something like this for Kyle was almost too much for him.

"And, I'll even sweeten the pot," Cartman grinned, leaning back and watching their eyes widen a bit in curiosity. "Should Kahl be compliant as I instruct him to be, I will _pay_ your two's rent," he gestured between the blonde and redhead.

"W-why would you do that?" Kyle raised his brow.

He chuckled, "Because, I don't want my whore to be worried about finances. And I'm not stupid, after the six months is over, you'll be far done with the business. And I figure then you can save up for school, which is what you want, riiiight?" he smirked. He had absolutely no fucks to give about the money, but the more he could get them to their side, the easier it would be to get Kyle to cave. The idea of him working under Cartman in such circumstances was like his dream come true, he'd be willing to sell his own mother if it got him what he wanted.

Kenny's brows furrowed and he looked around the room, desperate for something to say. What Cartman was offering was too good to be true, even considering the horrible position it put Kyle in. "What...what exactly is it that you would have Kyle be doing?" he squeezed the redhead's leg.

He shrugged, "He would be an escort for lack of better terms. Drinking with men, socializing, seducing them, and fucking them. Nothing too complicated. Occasionally I'll give him specific clubs or parties to go to but mostly it'll just be simple business. But we'll make a shit ton of money off of you," his eyes glistened.

"I don't make that much, Cartman," Kyle muttered tiredly.

"You will with me," he cocked a brow. "I know exactly where some little scrawny piece of shit like you will be practically auctioned off. I could probably get $1000 off of you if I talk you up enough, which you know I can."

"I-I don't think that you can," he shook his head slowly.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Do you not know me at _all,_ Kahl? I've convinced the fucking masses to get behind shit they never would have before. You think I can't convince some horny faggot to pay a lot to fuck your scrawny Jew ass?" Kyle was silent so he pushed forward, "I'm offering you 60% of whatever the payment is. I'll collect the money beforehand, you'll do your work, and that'll be it. You'll walk out of there with money that you can use for whatever you want. Not bills, not anything like that. It'll be petty cash to you," he grinned.

"What about the police, Cartman?" Stan asked quietly. "Kyle's been sneaking around doing this. If you parade him around, he could go to jail pretty quickly."

He shook his head, "Ah, you'd think so, but no. The cops around here? Fucking idiots, you all know that." The three of them nodded subtly and he continued, "I have dirt on every single officer should one of them try to actually do their job. Hell, most of them are part of my drug ring," he shrugged. "And I know of one officer that'd love to get into bed with someone like you, Jew."

"Goody for me," he mumbled.

"Besides, the way we'll have it set up, they'll be paying for Kahl's 'companionship'," he air quoted. "They're paying for dinner or drinks or a nice chat. He's having sex with them for free," he smirked.

Kyle looked at him suspiciously, "I'm uncomfortable with how nonchalantly you're talking about me having sex with people."

He shrugged, "Business is all this is, Kahl. I don't give a fuck how it gets done, but as long as I get the money I work for, everything is golden."

"And just how long have you been waiting to do this to Kyle?" Kenny drawled, squeezing Kyle's leg impossibly hard and making the boy wince. "Just how fucking long, Cartman?"

"Since I found the first video," he smirked. Kyle's face reddened again and he laughed. "Oh this was _forever_ ago. I was practicing digging up dirt on the old owner of my firm, used you three as practice," he shrugged. "Learned that Kinny was in jail in Tennessee for about a month for cocaine charges last year."

The blonde blushed and Kyle looked up at him with narrowed eyes. _"Excuse me?"_

He cringed and rubbed his hand through his hair, "Remember that month I was road-tripping with Kev? A-and I called and told you after a few days that I wouldn't be able to call you again because we'd be out in the boonies?" he asked quietly.

"You _lied_ to me?! You fucking decided to use goddamn crack and fucking lied to me about it?!" he screeched.

"I wasn't _doin'_ it," he insisted, grabbing Kyle's hands. "Dude, I was trying to sell it to get us some money for the bills a-and I got caught and..." he bit his lip. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm really really sorry. It was after I lost my old job at the store and you were makin' all the money and I felt bad and..." he trailed off. Kyle looked at him, his fury melting into a sympathetic pout. Stan couldn't help but watch it in wonder. If he himself had done some shit like that, Kyle would never have let up on him. Kyle sighed, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the blonde.

"It's okay," he whispered. "I guess neither of us is going to be winning the Nobel Prize anytime soon." Kenny just sniffled, clasping his arms back around him and holding him tightly against him.

Cartman snorted a bit and looked over at Stan with an amused smile. "Learned that you're a raging homo yourself, Marsh."

Stan just shrugged, "Yeah, I am what I am. How the fuck did you find out though?"

"Hacked in, found some emails between you and Tucker," he chuckled. "Dirty shit between you two, I'll tell ya."

Kyle looked at him in disgust. "Really? Craig? I mean Jesus I knew you liked dudes but that's just too far, Man."

He just shrugged again, forcing an awkward chuckle out, "Hey, if you and Ken are together then you have absolutely no room to judge me for my bad tastes." He laughed again as Kenny reached over and smacked his head.

Cartman looked over at the redhead and shook his head a bit, "Gotta tell ya, Jew, with what I found on you and what I've heard on the streets, you're a hell of a whore."

"Was that a compliment?" he asked dryly.

He shrugged, "Take it or leave it. But we can put your skills to good use and all four of us can walk out of this with a good amount of money. So...what'll it be, Kahl?"

Kyle looked at Stan who gave the bare minimum of a supportive smile. He hated this. They all three hated this. But there was so little that any of them could do at that point, they would just have to concede. Green, glassy eyes flickered over to Kenny's who looked at him with worry etched all over his features. "I-it's up to you, Kyle," he said softly, leaning forward and kissing his forehead. "You know how I feel."

He sighed and looked over at Cartman tiredly, his mind racing and screaming at him that this whole thing was a bad idea...but he knew exactly how this would all end for him if he didn't cooperate. "I want the six hundred up front in cash. And I don't want to contractually obligate myself to all six months right away. I'll do two months as a trial run, and, if I or Stan or Kenny aren't hurt, I'll continue with the last four with no arguments. And...if I find a job, a _real_ job, then I am out automatically. I will pay you back with interest for what you pay us today."

Cartman nodded, looking at him with a sardonic grin, "I find these terms acceptable." He outstretched his hand and Kyle took it back shakily, letting Cartman dictate the strength of the handshake. "Though trust me," he chuckled. "That 'real' job that you're pining for? You won't so much as think about taking it once you see just how much money we're raking in."

He rolled his eyes and took his hand back, "I highly doubt that."

He smirked, "Now that your duties include being compliant with myself, I'm going to give you your first job." Kyle growled and tensed a bit and he laughed lowly, his amber eyes gleaming deviously in the morning light, "Trust me. You'll love this one."


	5. Chapter 5

The three of them sat side by side, their eyes dully lit by the glowing light of Kenny's old laptop. Stan averted his gaze from the screen, fiddling with a pen he found strewn on the desk in front of him.

"We're going to lose all our royalties if we do this," Kyle muttered, watching Kenny slowly wading his way through various videos of theirs, working through the tedious task of deleting them off the numerous sites.

Ken's blue eyes flickered to the redhead beside him and he let out a heavy, tensed breath. "Yeah. But I personally would rather these things not be out and about anyway. The less people who know about this shit the better."

Kyle nodded a bit, his dimmed green eyes fixated lazily on the screen still. "I guess this is just the one time in my life I have to trust that fat bastard."

Stan leaned back in his chair, looking around Kenny's back over at the boy and he shook his head, "Dude, this is fucking crazy of you to be doing."

The redhead merely shrugged, pushing his bangs back off of his face tiredly. "Well, Stan, what he was offering was too good to pass up. And if he means it that I won't be hurt again, well, I'm just going to have to play with the cards he dealt me right now." He finally looked over at his best friend, his face sunken in embarrassment and exhaustion. His eyes scanned over Stan's face before his shoulders dropped and he sighed. "Stan, which video did you find?" he asked quietly.

The boy blinked and cleared his throat awkwardly, dropping his gaze to the floor. "The...the one with the guys who are after you."

"Oh fantastic," he scoffed, throwing his head back and staring up at his and Kenny's cracked plaster ceiling. "The one goddamn gangbang I'm thrown into and you find it," he rolled his eyes. "Of all the goddamn luck I swear to Christ," he placed his hand over his eyes and shook his head.

"I'm sorry," Stan whispered, turning his attention back to the pen being fiddled with in his fingers. It was true, visions of that video were definitely not doing what they had done to him in his room anymore. The whole ugly truth behind it was just way too much for him to even _think_ about anything exciting and erotic within the whole disaster. It felt like he'd been paraded around a pet adoption center, playing with the puppies and feeling on cloud nine before going home and being informed every animal had been euthanized when he left. It was sickening and uncomfortable, it left a heavy, slick weight bearing down on his chest and heart. Now he knew that there was just no way to just back out of the whole mess; He was going to be in this for the long haul, but not nearly as roughly thrust into it as the two beside him were going to be.

Kyle's voice piqued him back into reality, "I'm not mad at you. You found something that we put on the internet. Not like it's exactly the plethora of secrecy," he mumbled. He sighed once more and leaned his head down on Kenny's shoulder, "We'll figure this out."

"I hope so," Kenny muttered, clicking through tabs on his browser, his eyes darting around the pages behind thick, narrowed brows. "Okay, that's all of 'em," he sighed, clicking out of the internet and looking down at the boy nestled against him. "Why the fuck is he so interested in getting you off the internet though?"

Kyle shrugged, "I couldn't even begin to imagine. But...unfortunately we all know Fatass well enough to know that he's thought this through. I'm sure he's got everything down to the smallest detail ready to fucking go," he shuddered a bit.

Stan threw the pen onto the desk, the three of them watching as it clattered against the wood before he directed his attention back over to the two of them. "Why you, though? Why the fuck would he want to start this whole bullshit with you?" he asked softly.

Kyle scoffed, leaning off of Ken and staring at him with the usual smart and alert beams of his eyes peaking back through. "You just answered it yourself, Stan," he drawled. "Because it's _me._ You know Cartman wouldn't pass up a chance to humiliate me and fuck knows that nothing can get more humiliating than this."

Kenny groaned softly, looping his arm over Kyle's shoulder and pulling him flush against his side. "You don't have to you know," he said softly. "We could..." he paused, biting his lip and looking over at Stan pleadingly, hoping that maybe one of them could have the answer to their problems waiting to be let out in that moment.

"Live in the homeless shelter?" Kyle finished. "Kenny. Ken, look at me," he said firmly, waiting for his blonde head to swing back around and gaze down at him. "Look, we're doing this. _I'm_ doing this. I don't want to but I also don't want us living in the gutter, all right? While Cartman's paying our goddamn rent, we can plot and plan all we want, okay?" Kenny nodded softly and Kyle leaned up, meeting his lips gently. "We're gonna get through this, I promise."

"Jesus Christ you two," Stan said softly in disbelief, shaking his head from his palm cupping his chin.

They pulled apart and looked at him confusedly, "What?" Ken blinked.

He chuckled softly to himself, letting his eyes drift back to Kenny's laptop. "You two are just...fucking crazy." He glanced at them and gave them a small smirk. "Never woulda thought that any couple could stand going through this shit. How the fuck are you two even managing it?"

Kyle raised his brow at him, "Uhhh because we've been together for like six years?"

"And we love each other?" Kenny added just as confusedly.

Stan recoiled back a bit, ignoring Kenny and staring at Kyle with wide eyes. " _Six_ years?!" he repeated. "The fuck, you two have been together for two!"

Kyle's face fell into a deep rouge and he slapped his palm onto his face, "Whoops."

Kenny chuckled and winked at Stan teasingly, "Nah, I snagged this cute little bastard wayyyyy back in sophomore year. We tip-toed around everyone until high school ended and we wouldn't have to deal with our parents as much," he shrugged.

Stan looked over at the still blushing and rather guilty looking Kyle, feeling that wave of hurt starting all over again. "Why didn't you tell _me_?" he asked. "Jesus Christ, Kyle, what the fuck else have you been hiding from me all this time?!"

"Nothing else, I swear," he insisted, finally looking him in the eyes. "Stan, we just didn't want anyone breathing down our backs about how 'bad' of an idea the two of us being together was," he gestured between himself and Kenny. "I mean, fuck, you _know_ how my parents were about Ken's family."

"And," Kenny added smartly, "If he told you, it would've gotten back to Sheila and Gerald and you damn well know it. You can't keep a secret to save your goddamn life."

"Pretty sure I'm going to be holding on to the secrets that I've learned over these last few days pretty well," he grumbled.

A few moments of silence passed before Kyle sighed and shook his head, "Stan..." the boy looked back up at him, the betrayal still etched on his tired face. "Stan, you know I hate hiding shit from you," he admitted guiltily. "Why the fuck do you think that Kenny and I told you we were going out graduation night?"

"He was practically _exploding_ not telling you," Ken snorted. "In fact, that was the only fight we had in high school," he smirked. "All about you, Stanny boy. Pretty sure Ky has more love for you than he ever will for me." He smiled as Kyle smacked his arm and rolled his eyes at the blonde.

Stan forced out a chuckle and shook his head around subtly, "You two...are the weirdest goddamn couple I've ever had the displeasure of dealing with." He leaned back in his chair and smirked at the two of them before it slowly fell again into a straight line along his lips. "Look, I'm going to tell you something right now, and you _both_ need to listen to me." the two of them glanced at each other worriedly before focusing back on him. "If I'm involved with...whatever the fuck is going on here," he gestured around aimlessly, "Then no more goddamn secrets, all right? If someone is going after you, you need to tell me. If someone hits you or some shit, you _need to tell me_. He paused, focusing on his best friend, "Kyle, if you get pregnant with a butt-baby, you need to tell me," he added with a small quirk of the lips.

Kyle couldn't help but laugh a bit, shaking his head and glancing down at the ground. "Gotcha, Stan wants to be Uncle Stan and nothing come Hell or high water is gonna stop him."

"Hey man, someone needs to teach the little bastard his sports, Lord knows you two can't," he rolled his eyes with a bemused smirk.

Kyle chuckled and met eyes with him again, nodding softly, "I promise. No more secrets. Though you know that you're more than welcome to just step out of this whole thing."

"In fact, it's preferred," Ken added dryly.

Stan looked up at him and quirked his brow, "Motherfucker, we have been _over_ this already," he said firmly. "I can't just fucking go home and think all is well and good with you two and just catch up with you at the goddamn coffee shop every few days. Jesus Christ, Kenny, I'm just trying to help."

"I know, I know," he raised his hands defensively. "I'd just rather you _didn't_ see Kyle getting fucked by strangers... _again_ ," he raised his brow and crossed his arms. "Just how much of that video did you see exactly, Marsh?"

"Stan, do _not_ answer that," Kyle said firmly, looking up and smacking the back of Kenny's head. "I don't want to know that answer and neither should you, Ken."

He looked down at the redhead and shrugged, "Well, excuse me for being possessive of ya." He jerked his head over to the blushing noirette and shrugged again, "Stan is the only person who I know has seen that shit that I can actually confront. Kinda just wanted to take my chance."

Kyle shook his head, "No. Because knowing you, you'd turn it into an all-out brawl and I'd be dragging both of your asses to the hospital. And you don't have medical insurance so I'd have to do this bullshit even _more_ ," he rolled his eyes. Kenny's face fell guiltily and a flash of panic beamed over Kyle's face. "No, Kenny, not like that," he insisted, grabbing his hands. "You know I don't blame you, okay?... _Okay?!"_

Kenny nodded silently, staring at their intertwined hands. Stan cleared his throat quietly and leaned over, looking up at Ken's broken expression. "Ken, he's right," he said softly. "This isn't either of yours' fault. It's gonna get better."

"It better," he muttered before a sound broke through them, a webchat call indication appearing on his laptop screen. "It's Cartman," he muttered.

"Oh goody," Kyle sighed, relinquishing Kenny's hands. Kenny clicked on his answer button, all of them staring with raised brows at the microphone icon in place of his camera.

"Turn off your camera, you retard," Cartman's voice broke through. Kenny quickly did as instructed, staring blankly at the screen.

"Why do we need to?" he asked.

"I'd rather someone _not_ see us by chance we have some asshole spying on us," he scoffed.

Kyle rolled his eyes, "Cartman you fucking retard. If they're spying on us, they already know the goddamn IP address, it's not like-"

"Remember that you work for me, Jew," Cartman cut him off sharply. "I expect my employees to treat me with respect."

Kyle seethed in his seat, his fists clenched tightly and his knuckles turning a ghastly white. Kenny quickly grabbed one of his hands, stroking it with his thumb and staring at the chat screen exhaustively. "What the fuck do you want, Fatass?" the blonde questioned.

He chuckled lowly, "We're gonna go meet your friends."

"Did you get the money?" Stan asked, leaning back and crossing his arms, glaring at the screen though he full and well knew that it wasn't like Cartman could exactly see his anger.

Another scoff, "Of course. You think getting $600 is hard for a guy like me? Please. Where the hell did you tell them to meet you, Po'Boy?"

Kenny sighed, "A warehouse down on 34th. Apparently they hang out there a lot," he rolled his eyes.

"All right. All three of you are to meet me there in ten minutes."

A beat of silence passed before Kyle yelped a bit, trying to wrestle Kenny's hand off of him which had tightened severely around the limp appendage. "Kyle. Isn't. Going," the blonde spat.

"Oh yes he is, Kinny," Cartman said angrily. "Look, you're going to want him there, trust me. Stop worrying, they won't hurt a hair on his little stupid Jew head with what I have."

Kyle's brow raised, "W-what do you have?"

"That's for your boss to know," he snorted. "Ten minutes. I'll meet you in the public lot down past the warehouses."

"Fine," Kyle growled, reaching forward and slamming Kenny's laptop shut. His hand remained on the screen, staring at it with furious eyes. "This fucker is going to get me killed," he shook his head slowly.

"You're **not** going," Ken said firmly. "Kyle, I don't give a fuck what he says, it's way too fucking dangerous for you to walk in-"

"Ken, stop," Kyle interjected. He raised his eyes to meet the boy's before getting to his feet and staring down at him. "I know your reservations and they are _duly_ noted. The ugly fact of the matter is that we need the money and right now...he's my boss," he gestured tiredly at the laptop. "I agreed to be compliant with him and...that's just how it's going to have to work."

Stan and Kenny stood up, looking down at the shorter boy with heartbroken blue eyes. "Dude," Stan sighed. "You being compliant with Cartman is just-"

"Something that happens to just be the latest in a long line of my humiliation," he said softly. "Stan, can you drive us there?"

He nodded, grabbing his truck keys from his pocket and tossing them in the air a bit, listening to the jangling tune jumping around in the discorded harmony of their current situation. "I don't like this," Kenny said lowly. "I really don't like the idea of you being anywhere _near_ those fucks."

"Cartman said they wouldn't hurt me and...and we're just going to have to trust him this time," he winced. He grabbed Kenny's hand and interwove their fingers. "Come on, let's just get this the fuck over with."

Kenny's hand tightened around his, letting him lead their way out the front door. Stan followed closely behind, watching the subtle tremors of Kenny's shoulders, the way that Kyle's free hand couldn't stop fiddling with his hair. It was a lot to take in, watching the two of them becoming absolutely terrified together. He couldn't say that he was feeling much better, however. He let out a long sigh as he closed their door behind him softly, making his way towards the parking lot with them in utter silence. Each footstep sounded like a countdown, one to which Stan nor anyone else had a clue what it would result in. But to the three boys heading through the concrete, it felt like the steps to the front of the firing squad.

* * *

"Okay, take a left here and it's right down the street," Kenny mumbled from the passenger seat, his hand still tightly clasped around Kyle's as he sat crouched down in the back, hidden beneath Stan's emergency winter blanket per Kenny's request. Kenny's hood was up, obscuring his hair and the majority of his face as he quietly gave Stan directions, his eyes darting around alertedly.

"Calm down," Stan said for about the fiftieth time in the short drive to the lot. "Kenny, it's going to be okay."

Sharp blue eyes shot into his own and a concealed brow narrowed in anger. "Good to know that you're fucking psychic, Stan," he spat.

Kyle tightened his hand around the blonde's, "Ken, don't get mad at him," he said softly. "Everything will be fine."

Ken paused before nodding, refusing to look back his way. His paranoia of the men possibly spying on them was racking through him, his nerves beginning to reach the boiling point. Giving away Kyle in the backseat was a complete non-option. If he had it his way, he'd stow the boy down in the bed of the truck, completely covered until he finished the deal himself. But he knew better, he knew that that wasn't how Cartman wanted it to go down. Stan turned into the public lot, his and Ken's eyes landing on Cartman standing against his mother's car, watching them with a smug smirk on his face. "I have a feeling I'm going to end up killing him at the end of all this," he growled.

"Not if I get the chance first," Kyle sighed tiredly. The truck came to a stop and Kenny put his hand up in front of Kyle, telling him not to move. Stan and Kenny stepped out of the truck, looking around suspiciously as Cartman came up towards them.

"Calm the fuck down, they're not here," the brunette rolled his eyes. "Kahl, get the fuck out of your little hiding spot."

The clear sound of Kyle growling softly entered the afternoon air before he emerged from the truck, throwing the blanket down onto the seat and glaring up at the heavyweight in front of him. "Why do I have to be here, Cartman?"

The boy smirked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of twenties, handing it to the Jew. "Because _you_ will be the one making the transaction."

"Oh **hell** no!" Kenny screeched. "I'll do it, Cartman!"

A pudgy finger wagged in the air as Cartman clucked his tongue, "Now. We're going to do this my way. Because I'm about to show the three of you just what it is I can do to make sure that the little whore here is safe," he reached down and pinched Kyle's cheek. The redhead sneered and batted his hand away.

"Stop calling me a whore, Cartman!" he hissed.

He snorted, grabbing Kyle's arm and beginning to tote him out of the lot with Kenny and Stan following closely behind, a deep glare set on both of their faces. "I'll call you whatever the fuck I want, Kahl," he said simply before looking back into Kenny's furiously blazing eyes. "Just which warehouse is it?"

"16," he muttered, stepping up and yanking Kyle back out of his grip.

Cartman glared at him with a dark tone underlying his brown eyes. "You don't want me to touch him? Fine. But you better not either unless you two are at home, do you fucking understand me, Poor boy?"

"You're trying to tell me when I'm allowed to touch my fucking boyfriend?" he seethed.

He shook his head, "When we're out here in the open, he's _not_ your little pansy-ass boyfriend. He's a fucking worker and having someone like you latching onto him isn't going to help us any."

Kyle growled, slowly pulling his arm out of Kenny's grip. "What does it matter if someone sees us together, Fatass?"

"All in due time, Jew," he chuckled, turning his attention back to the front of the line. "Did you delete all of your little pornos as I asked?"

"Yes," he snarled, the red striking along his cheekbones in full force. "And just why did we need to do that and lose our money?!"

"All in due time," he repeated in a soft murmur, leading them up to the warehouse with a large 16 printed on the side of the door. "Any specific way you're supposed to get in?" he asked Kenny.

The blonde took a deep, angry breath, stepping up and hitting the small side door in an oddly jaunty fashion: One long hit, two staccato in succession, and another three lengthy. He backed up, his hands automatically going to grasp at Kyle's shoulders before Cartman swatted them down. They all looked over as the large metal overhead door on the front began sliding open. They stepped back, watching as the five men popped into view and Stan's eyes quickly scanned around the room. His stomach dropped nauseatingly as he realized it was the same room that the video he found was taped in.

"Well well well, Pretty Boy is here," their 'leader' smiled, his teeth yellow and crooked in the bright daylight. "Was expecting to have to find you tonight," he chuckled darkly. "You have our money?"

"Yes," he said angrily. "All six hundred fucking dollars, you sick fuck."

"Kahl," Cartman said quietly. "Behave."

Kyle's entire body twitched as he let Cartman's order sink in. Taking command from _him_ of all people...It never boded well within the poor kid and it never would. This whole deal was going to be much more difficult than he had imagined.

The man looked between the two of them and snorted, "Thought Blondie over there was your squeeze," he jerked his head over towards Kenny who was shaking in his place. Stan came over beside him and placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "Didn't know you had such _big_ tastes," he continued, smirking at Cartman. The brunette stayed silent, his face unmoving as he looked between the five in his analytical pattern that was just part of who he had always been. A small smirk broke over his lips before falling back into stone. The man redirected his attention back onto the small redhead and he paused, letting out a laugh. "Looks like you pissed someone else off there, didn't ya, Red?" he pointed at his own eye in mockery. "You were so _good_ to me and the boys here," he gestured behind him. "Was there _really_ someone that didn't appreciate what a good little whore you are?" he drawled tauntingly. Kyle's face was beaming, his eyes brimming with tears. His breath came out in furious wisps between his teeth before he felt Cartman's thick hand on his shoulder and he looked up at him confusedly.

"Do you want your money or not?" The brunette asked simply, his voice strangely calm and even.

The man nodded, "Yeah. I do. But I'm going to need all four of you to back the fuck up," he waved them back.

Cartman nodded, leading Kyle back and silently motioning for the others to do so as well. They got themselves a good ten feet away before the brunette squeezed Kyle's shoulder. "Go give him the money, Kahl," he pushed the boy forward a bit. Kyle gulped, taking the wad of cash out of his pocket and shakily stepping over towards the man. Kenny looked ready to leap over to get between him and the man and Cartman glared. "Marsh, hold him back," he said curtly. Stan looked between the two of them before slowly wrapping his hands around Kenny's arms, still leaving it plenty loose enough for the two of them to break free if need-be.

Kyle's trembling hand reached forward with the bills before the man's face broke into a vicious grin and he grabbed the boy's arm, wrenching him forward. Kyle let out a large yelp and Kenny broke forward, being snared by the collar by Cartman and tossed back onto the ground. "Stay there, Kinny," he hissed. "You, too," he nodded at Stan. They both looked at each other before back to Kyle who was struggling to get his arm out of the man's grip.

"Let go!" he shouted, kicking at him and digging his nails into the thick forearm. "You fuck I said let MMPH!" he screeched as another two men came up, one snaring his other arm and the other slamming his palm across his open mouth.

"He just talks too much," the leader chuckled sardonically. "I think we'll take payment in both forms today if you don't mind." Kyle's eyes widened, honing in on Kenny desperately as he ground his feet down, thrusting his chest around wildly as he tried to struggle free.

The blonde hopped to his feet to rush over and Cartman pushed him back a bit, smirking at the large man. "I do mind, in fact. You happen to be holding _my_ property."

He scoffed, "Oh really? Well you need to learn to take better care of your toys. This one just seems to keep ending up in our laps," he grinned.

"Really?" he cocked his head. "Because I'd think the only toys you should be handling are those of your three daughters, isn't that right, Mr. Feldson?"

The man froze and stared at him, his brows narrowing. "What...what the fuck did you say, Tubby?"

He shrugged casually, looking at him with an almost bored expression, "I'm just saying, I'd think that you and your wife of 28 years would be more equipped to handling Barbie dolls than _that_ kind of toy," he gestured to Kyle, who watched him with confused eyes. "But then again..." he stared at the man and his face broke into Cartman's trademark sadistic grin, "I highly doubt your lovely Anna knows anything about your fondness for boys half your age...does she, Rowan?"

The man's jaw dropped and all eyes focused on him, "How...how the fuck did-"

"Because you were fucking with my property," he said darkly, the smile melting off his face into a vicious scowl. "No one fucks with my things without me getting involved. So I suggest that you throw the whore back my way, take your money, and you stay the fuck away from him, lest I contact your lovely wife and tell her just what it is you've been up to."

"She'd never believe you," he scoffed.

He cocked his head and raised his brow, "Except...we have video evidence, remember? That's the only reason you're getting any money is because you were perfectly content with being filmed while fucking this slut," he jerked his head to Kyle. "I have more than enough information on _all_ of you to make your lives a living fucking hell if you don't toss him back over here. Do we understand each other, Mr. Feldson?"

His dark eyes widened in realization, his lips curling into a snarl. "Fine," he spat, nodding at the two beside him. They slowly relinquished their grip on the stunned redhead. Rowan tightened his grip around Kyle's arm before throwing him forward out into the cement, letting him land in a curled heap on the ground. The boy scrambled up and ran back to the others, watching the group as he backed up between Cartman and Kenny. The man glared at Cartman before looking back at the redhead, beating the wad of cash against his hand. "Guess the party's over, Red. Too bad, coulda had a lot more fun with ya," he smirked before reaching up and grabbing the handle of the door, slamming it down onto the ground. The sound of crashing metal echoed around the street and they all stared at it before Stan, Kenny, and a still-shaking Kyle looked over at the brunette with wide eyes.

"H-how did..." Kyle started before raking his fingers through his hair anxiously. "Jesus fucking Christ they could've-"

"They wouldn't have," Cartman scoffed. "Not with the shit I had on them. You think it's that hard to figure people's faces out from your little video before you deleted it? Two of them are in my drug ring, it doesn't take long to find their connections. Hell, all I needed was fucking Facebook for that. Smooth sailing from there."

Kyle let his fingers fall loose from his hair and stared up at the glutton, his breathing deep and shaky. "Thanks," he whispered.

Cartman finally looked down at him with a crooked smirk, "Do you believe me now? I know how to keep you out of trouble. But you have to stop being a defiant little bitch and listen to me, do you fucking understand, Kahl?"

Kyle looked over at Kenny and Stan, who were still gaping at the brunette. His shoulders sunk and he stared at the ground. "Yeah. I-I understand."

"Good," he slapped his back a bit. "Then you have a week off," he smiled sweetly.

Kyle looked up at him suspiciously, "What? I figured you'd want to whore me out as soon as goddamn possible."

He chuckled lowly and shook his head, "Oh, Kahl. You know me so much better than that," his eyes sparkled and his white teeth beamed through a lecherous grin. "I have more showmanship than that..." he paused and smirked, looking past the boys towards downtown, "And I have a lot to do to get this town ready for your debut."


	6. Chapter 6

The gentle sounds of muddled conversations rang in his ears as he walked behind the bar, sweeping up an array of straws and cocktail napkins that people had somehow managed to push over onto his side. He swore under his breath, his eyes glancing up to the clock up above the taps. Twenty minutes. Twenty more minutes and he could go home.

Stan sighed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his arm, his eyes fleeting along his bar for any patrons that needed him. Luckily enough, it didn't seem to be the case. Working a nine hour shift never did him any good. His back was locked and his feet were killing him as they walked the tiled floor in the worn soles of his old converse. His mind kept fleeting from work even as he had been mixing cocktails and dispensing beers and breaking up fights the past four days.

The whole scenario of what had transpired with Cartman was still raging in his mind. He bit his lip every time he thought about it, knowing that Kyle only had possibly three days left before the glutton fed him out to the sharks. It was unnerving and it certainly didn't help matters that he was surrounded by the quick-term solution on all sides and couldn't help himself to a shot now and again. Though as shitty as the entire thing made him feel, he knew that four straight bottles of Jack probably couldn't make him feel any better.

"Well I didn't know that they let strippers work in the real world," a familiar voice perked up as he swept. He turned and saw Craig Tucker sitting at the bar with a raised, amused brow.

Great.

He sighed, pushing his broom to the far wall and walking up in front of him, placing his hands down on the bar tiredly. "Whaddya want?"

He snorted, "Wow, what patronage. Remind me to tell your manager to recommend you for employee of the month for your sunny disposition."

Stan chuckled a bit and shook his head, "Considering that the only other bartender could probably kill our boss if he wanted to, I don't think I have much of a chance regardless of the weight your word carries."

He shrugged, "Well I was just tryin' to be nice."

He rolled his eyes, "That's a hell of a change of pace for you. Now, what the hell do you want because I only have fifteen minutes left on my shift and I still need to clean up."

Craig scoffed and shrugged, "Beer on tap. Surprise me...," he paused. "Nothing under two dollars and nothing over ten," he clarified.

"Oh, so, _every_ beer? You really think you can get beer for under two dollars?" he snorted, grabbing a mug and turning towards the taps, picking one at random and tipping the glass underneath the pouring amber.

Craig shrugged again, "Never know, I don't trust bars that have such shitty choices in their workforce."

Stan looked back at him and cocked his brow, "Remember that I can easily just hock a loogie in your alcohol, Tucker."

He rolled his eyes, "Wouldn't be the worst thing of yours I've had in my mouth." Stan burst into laughter, pulling his mug out and handing it over to the boy, who took a long swig, setting it back down on the bar with a contented sigh. Stan glanced down around his bar, seeing everyone content to themselves and leaning against the counter in front of Craig. The boy started up, "So. Haven't seen ya in a while."

Stan shrugged, "Been working like crazy. Gotta pay the goddamn bills somehow."

He nodded in agreement, tonguing over his lips. "When do ya get off?"

He rolled his eyes, "I _literally_ just told you in about fifteen minutes." Craig blinked before snorting a bit at himself and nodding, taking another sip. Stan felt his arm sticking to the polished surface under him a bit and grimaced. "Why?"

Craig looked at him and and shrugged, "Bored. Wanted to know if you wanted to bang."

"Tactful," he raised his brow, leaning up off the counter and grabbing a damp rag behind him, swabbing off the bar and lowering his eyes to his work. Sex was literally the last thing on his mind right now. Even the idea of jerking off just sounded so unappealing with everything that he'd heard last weekend. He flickered his gaze up to see grey eyes staring back at him expectantly. "Nah," he finally answered, shaking his head. "I'm just really tired and not in the mood."

"Well fine," he scoffed. "Need me to pick ya up some tampons?"

"Well _excuse_ me for not being the hormonal express," he retorted dryly. "Been a long day, Craig. 'Sides, you and I haven't done anything in like, half a year or some shit."

"And I wanted to relive the glory days," he joked. "Just thought I'd ask..." he paused and stared at the boy inquisitively.

Stan stopped his cleaning and returned the expression, "What?"

"So...bit of a personal question," Craig looked to see the other patrons on the other side of the bar not paying attention to them before turning back to Stan's gaze. "You ever messed around with the gay clubs in town?"

He shook his head, "Nah. Tried once a few months ago but I just felt really awkward and I left. I deal with enough drunken bastards here," he gestured around aimlessly.

Craig eyes sparked a bit deviously and Stan backed off a little, not used to seeing such a gleam in the usual monotonous hue. "So...you haven't heard about the new guy?"

"What...what new guy?" he narrowed his eyes at him confusedly.

He leaned forward more and took a long chug of his beer, staring at the bitter nectar with a small smirk playing on his lips. "Apparently word on the street is there's some new gay hooker that's gonna start runnin' around."

Stan's heart practically stopped in his chest, his fingers clenching tightly around the rag under his hand. He tried his best to keep his cool, "Really? Why is that big news? So there's another slut out there, big deal," he inwardly winced. Good thing Kyle wasn't around to hear that, or the bigger threat of Kenny. The blonde probably would have knocked his lights out at that word.

Craig raised his brow, "Because there's literally three gay hookers in this small-ass town. And two of them are over goddamn forty. Apparently this new guy is our age and a twink like no other."

Stan nodded slowly, that feeling of shame of finding Kyle's video on a twink site bubbling up once again. "That's all you've heard?"

Craig shook his head, "Heard he's like, super small. Total slut like no other. I think I heard he's a redhead, too, which hey, that's pretty fuckin' rare, not to mention hot," he chuckled.

Stan's heart was beating wildly in his chest, his face burning with the words spilling out of Craig's mouth. This couldn't be good if word about him was already spreading out so fast. "Where'd you hear about him?"

He shrugged, "One of the night clubs downtown," he waved towards the door dismissively. "Apparently his first job is being bid for for next Friday night." Stan raised his brow apprehensively, his mind narrowing on Cartman. He had to forcefully shut down a growl trying to worm its way out of his throat. The bastard wasn't kidding when he said he could get Kyle auctioned off like a fresh piece of meat. Craig calmly continued, "It's weird, Man. This kid is getting talked about _everywhere_ in our little fag home. I've heard about him at every goddamn club, given we only have two, but still. Apparently he's being talked about in the BDSM club on the outskirts of town, too," he shrugged.

Stan's stomach twisted and he gulped. His teeth grated the inside of his bottom lip. This wasn't good, this wasn't good at _all_. Cartman was working around like crazy trying to get word out, but if there was anyone who could do it, Stan knew that it would definitely be him. He noticed Craig just staring at him and cleared his throat, "But...why are they making such a big deal out of him?" he asked. "I mean, yeah, low supply or whatever but...why?"

Craig chuckled, "Apparently someone's been talking him the fuck up. He told like, one guy who told three and it just spread around like crazy. Not too many twenty year old boys are lying back waiting to be fucked by another dude," he shrugged casually. "People are jumping at the chance. I heard the price is already going pretty high, and there's still another week left," he raised his brow.

Stan sighed, running his fingers through his dark hair and glancing back up at the clock. Five minutes thank fucking god. He looked back at Craig tiredly, "Why'd you tell me?"

"Figured you're as much of a raging homo as any of 'em, thought you might wanna put your name in the hat."

"Did you?" he raised his brow.

He nodded, "Yeah. Pretty curious and I have a decent amount of money put away from the factory..." he paused, "Oh yeah that reminds me, you gonna see McCormick anytime soon?" Stan nodded softly, knowing that despite his aching body he was running straight to Ken and Kyle's apartment with the information that'd just been spilled out to him. "Tell him I got him an interview," he said.

Stan's heart leapt with hope, "Really?" he nearly squeaked. It was too good to be true. Maybe Kenny could whisk Kyle out of the land of debauchery in the nick of time with a job.

"Yeah, got a pen?" he asked. Stan grabbed the one out of his apron pocket and handed it over, watching as Craig snagged a cocktail napkin and hurriedly scribbled down the information. "It's tomorrow afternoon at two," he said, handing the pen and napkin back to him. "Put in all the good word I could for him, so we'll have to see how it goes," he shrugged.

"Thanks, Dude. Ken and Ky _really_ need it," he chuckled breathlessly, stroking the precious napkin with his thumb. A saving grace. It was the most beautiful piece of flimsy beer-stained paper that he'd ever seen in his life. He tucked it away safely in the pocket of his jeans and grinned at Craig widely. "This is gonna make them so goddamn happy you don't even know."

He rolled his eyes bemusedly, "Well Ken already knows that he's my bitch if he gets the job. I know they're having a lot of problems right now with money and shit."

"You have no idea," Stan muttered, sighing tiredly.

"Marsh, your shift iz over!" a voice called before a tall, tanned boy stepped up beside him behind the bar.

Stan smirked, tearing off his apron and stretching, "Ah, Christophe, my knight in beer-soaked armor."

The brunette scoffed and rolled his eyes, snagging his own apron from under the bar. "Anyz'ing I should know about?"

"Nah," he shook his head. "Pretty standard night..." _'Work-wise at least,'_ he thought. He turned to Craig, "Hey, you got that beer on my shift, so you need to pay up. Eight bucks."

Craig rolled his eyes and tossed him a crumpled ten out of his pocket, "Keep the change."

"Gee, thanks," he chuckled, walking over to the register and grabbing two bills out. Christophe walked over to him and he looked up at him confusedly, "What?"

"What iz up your ass?" he raised his brow. "You are tense as sheet."

Stan gulped. Christophe had always been an expert at seeing through anyone trying to pass themselves off as collected. It'd prevented many a bar brawl in their time working together, that was for damn sure. "Just been a long-ass night is all, Tophe," he chuckled nervously. "Have fun closing with these fuckers," he waved his hand towards the barflies dismissively. "I'll see you on Sunday."

"Lucky sheet, always getting ze weekend off," he rolled his eyes bemusedly. "Are you sucking ze manager's deeck or what?"

Stan teasingly put a finger to his lips as he stepped out of their confinement, "What happens in that office is for me and my man to know about." Christophe gave a curt laugh and waved him away. "See ya around, Craig."

"See ya, remember what I said about our little redheaded friend," he toasted his beer towards him a bit. "Not too late to dip your hands in that shit." Stan shuddered, forcing a smile on his face and quickly making his way out of the door, being blasted with the frigid evening air. He shivered again, tightly grasping his apron in his hands, keeping the pockets full of his tips closed off with his fingers as he made way to his truck. This was insane, Kyle was a topic of gossip and no one even knew that it was him. Stan bit his lip, he knew that one person being 'escorted' by him would blow the whistle on him entirely, this thing was going to absolutely destroy any chance of a decent reputation that Kyle had. He grabbed his keys and clenched them tightly in his palm, feeling the jagged edges digging into his skin as he shook his head slowly. This awkward situation was turning even more disgustingly uncomfortable at every turn...But he had to tell them.

* * *

"Jew, you're going to do this and you're going to do it _now_ ," Cartman's demanded, his voice cutting through the small apartment like a machete. A digital camera dangled from his plump wrist, his fingers wrapped genially around it.

Kyle looked up at him from his and Kenny's couch with a snide glare, "Why the _fuck_ should I?!"

"Because I am your boss and I said so!" he glared.

Kenny jumped to his feet and sneered, "Not many bosses keep their jobs when they ask their employees to get naked, Fatass!" he screamed.

Cartman groaned, rubbing his forehead with an angry muttering escaping his lips. "I didn't ask him to get _naked._ I told him to take off his fucking shirt and turn around. It is _literally_ a picture of his back and that's _it!"_ He looked at Kyle with an evil glare, "The back of your head is kind of important in this fucking business, Kahl!"

"UGH!" Kyle let out exhaustively, throwing his embarrassed face into his palms and shaking his head. "Why do you _need_ this picture?"

"Because right now all I have is word of mouth," he said lowly, tapping his foot. "I'm going to show them this _one_ little piece of you. That's it. Besides, you've had your dick hanging out for fucking videos so I don't think you should be so much of a pussy about your goddamn back!"

Kyle got to his feet and gritted his teeth. "It's not that. It's the fact that it's _you_ that I'm having to do this for!"

Cartman let out a long and aggravated sigh. "Would you feel better if I left the room and Kinny took the fucking picture?"

Kyle paused, shifting uncomfortably and looking at his boyfriend a bit. "Yeah. Yeah I would," he said quietly.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you little Jew Pansy Princess," he groaned, shoving the camera into Kenny's hands. "Take the picture, get his hair and neck and shoulders and part of his back, got it?"

"Yeah I fuckin' get it," he growled, looking nothing short of smashing Cartman's camera on the ground and slamming the brunette's corpse on the broken remains. The heavyweight just sighed irritably, heading towards their kitchen. Kenny watched him with Kyle before looking back at the little redhead with sad eyes. "Kyle?" he looked up at him with sparks of anger still shooting through the green irises. "Babe...we really don't have to-"

"Yeah, we do," he interjected. "I just...I can't fucking... _submit_ to him, ya know?" he winced. "This whole thing is bad enough but the fact that it's him is just edging me on..." he sighed tiredly. "Let's just fucking do this," he muttered, tearing off his hat and tshirt and throwing them onto the couch.

Kenny watched the clothes being tossed over and back onto Kyle's half-bared form. "Been awhile since you've stripped in here," he chuckled humorlessly.

Kyle's face fell drastically, biting his lip and turning his back towards him. "Just...take the picture," he muttered. Kenny watched him for a bit before doing as requested. He let the camera auto-focus on the slimmed muscle of Kyle's back and shoulders. He sighed, taking a few pictures and putting the camera gently on the table. His heart dropped as he heard the clear sound of Kyle sniffling.

"Ky?" he asked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Kyle looked back at him with tears brimming his eyes before he hurriedly looked away, crossing his arms over his bared chest and struggling to keep himself collected. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" he coaxed, leading him to the couch and sitting him down slowly beside him.

Kyle looked at him again and shook his head, "I'm sorry that I...I never want to...a-and then I do with strangers and..." he bit his lip again. "I just feel like I'm cheating on you... _constantly_. I-I feel so guilty and now...now it's becoming my fucking profession."

Kenny's chest twisted painfully as he gathered the tearful redhead in his arms and held him tightly. "I know you're not cheating on me," he murmured, kissing his temple. "You know I'm not mad at you for all this shit."

"Well you _should_ be!" he said, pushing back a bit and looking at him worriedly. "Jesus, Ken, I fuck men in front of you for money! How does that not make you want to break my neck or some shit?!"

He stared at him a minute and his eyes narrowed slightly, "Because I know you. You're not doing this for you. You're doing this for _me._ " Kyle froze up slightly, turning red and he continued, "Ky, I'm not a fucking idiot, okay? You wouldn't give two shits if you couldn't eat or whatever, you're doing this because you don't want me to do without. Which is fucking crazy, by the fucking way. I'd much rather we be together in a goddamn homeless shelter than watch you do this time after time..." he paused and sighed, "But that's just not gonna work and we both know it."

He shied down a bit, grabbing his shirt from off the couch and twisting the fabric in his hands. "Still though..."

"Still nothin'," he said firmly. "'Sides, I kinda sorta love ya, so I ain't gonna get angry with ya fer tryin' to take care of us," he squeezed him tightly. "I can deal with not sleepin' with ya. So long as I git t' sleep next t' ya every night, that's all right."

Kyle chuckled and shook his head, "Your accent is back in full force, Dude."

"What accent?" he blinked at him.

Kyle looked up at him with a loving smile on his face, "Whenever you start getting emotional or super cheesy about us, your parents' accents breaks through like no tomorrow," he chuckled. Kenny cleared his throat and blushed awkwardly. Kyle smirked, leaning up and kissing his lips gently, holding his face in his palm. "I like it," he murmured against his mouth.

Kenny pulled back and chortled, "You like bein' with a redneck?"

He shrugged and grinned sheepishly, "I'm a red _head_ , so I guess that makes us the full upper body package." Kenny laughed, putting his legs on the couch around him and pulling him flush against his stomach, snuggling down into the arm of the sofa. Kyle sighed contentedly, resting his head on his chest and nuzzling down into him.

"Gross," Cartman appeared back in the archway.

"I forgot he was here," Kyle muttered angrily against Kenny's sweatshirt.

"Me, too," he sighed, looking over at the brunette. "Pictures are taken. Now get the fuck out of our house."

Cartman rolled his eyes, reaching into his work bag and pulling out a thick stack of papers and tossing them on Kyle's legs. "Fine, but you need to do these, Kahl."

Kyle grabbed the papers and glanced over them, his brow furrowing and his face beaming brightly. "The fuck is this?!" he exclaimed, his eyes finding kinks and fetishes galore in a long list about ten pages long.

"Something you need to fill out," Cartman scoffed as he put the camera into his bag. "That way you don't have a customer who expects to piss in your mouth and you run away from them."

He looked at him slowly, "So...this is for _my_ benefit?"

He nodded, "Well, you and my bank account. Mind you you need to look at this like you'd be doing all that shit with _Kinny_."

"Whaddya mean?" he cocked his brow.

He groaned and shook his head, "Don't look at the fucking list like you're doing this shit with strangers. Because then you won't be willing to do fucking _anything_ and you'll cut all our cliental right the fuck out. Cross out what even doing with Po'Boy would make you uncomfortable, all right, Jew?" He sighed and nodded tiredly, looking at the list with dulled eyes, Cartman watching him with a small smirk. "Though...from what I heard in there," he jerked his head back to the kitchen, "Seems you don't feel like doin' much of anything with him, do ya?"

"GET OUT!" Kyle shot up off of Kenny and pointed to the door, trembling with utter fury. "We're fucking _done_ here, you Fat sack of shit! We took your fucking picture and I'll do the fucking list but I want you out of here right **now**!"

Cartman just chuckled at his outburst, watching the furious breathing from his chest looking like he was nearing hyperventilation. "Poor Kahl," he shook his head. "How the mighty have fallen."

"Cartman," Kenny growled in warning. "Don't. Push it."

He laughed a bit, "Yeah yeah. Oh, just so you know, Jew. You have more time."

The redhead raised his brow suspiciously, "Whaddya mean?"

"Your first job will be next Friday," he said simply.

Kyle's shoulders fell, "Cartman we need money _now_ ," he insisted. "We could wait until next Sunday but we need money for food and-OW!" he yelled as Cartman threw something and hit him in the face. He looked down at his lap, finding a wad of cash on him. "What the-"

"There's $300," he said simply. "Use it to buy yourselves some real goddamn food," he scoffed, jerking his head back towards the kitchen again. "All you have in there is goddamn Ramen."

"That's what you eat when you're poor," Kenny muttered, rubbing Kyle's shoulders as the boy continued staring down at the money in his hands. "Why're you giving us money?"

"Because I need until next Friday to get Kahl out there, and I can't have him going around just whoring himself out for you two to get some goddamn Pop-Tarts," he retorted. "I'll take it out of your cut for Friday. But trust me, with the way it's going, $300 is a pittance," he chuckled. Kenny and Kyle stared after him with wide eyes as he made his way to the door with his bag in hand. Cartman opened it and found Stan standing there with his fist raised to knock, blinking at him in shock. "Well, hello, Hippie," he smirked. "I was just on my way out," he pushed past him and Stan watched him walk towards the parking lot.

"Uh...yeah, bye to you, too," he muttered angrily. He looked back in and found the two sitting on the couch, stepping inside and raising his brow as he noticed Kyle without a shirt holding a wad of money. "So...did you just fuck Cartman or..."

Kyle looked at him with the most disgusted expression that Stan had ever seen on the boy's face. "What the **fuck** is the matter with you?!" he screeched, gagging a bit.

"Sorry, sorry," he raised his hands defensively, shutting their door and looking at them tiredly. "Dude...Craig was in the bar tonight."

"And?" Kenny raised his brow, rubbing the back of the still-trying-not-to-vomit redhead seated against him.

He sat down in their chair and looked at Kyle, biting his lip. "Kyle...Cartman's got word out on you already. Like, crazily."

Kyle stopped dry heaving and looked at him confusedly. "What...whaddya mean?"

Stan sat back, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "He said that there's word out in the gay community about...uh..." he searched for the words.

"Uh uh," Kenny shook his head at him. "Do _not_ sugarcoat this shit. What _exactly_ did Craig say?"

Stan dropped his gaze to the carpet, his face burning intensely as he felt both pairs of eyes practically boring into him. "He said a small redheaded twink slut," he muttered.

Silence fell over the lot before the very confusing sound of Kyle laughing broke through the air. The two of him looked over at him, stunned, and he shook his head, "Do you think I can work that title onto a resume?" he joked. Kenny snorted, kissing his head softly.

"Oh! Speaking of resumes..." Stan broke into a smile and grabbed the napkin out of his pocket, shoving it at Kenny eagerly. "Craig gotcha an interview at the factory, Dude!"

The blonde's jaw dropped, "No way."

"Uh huh!" he nodded excitedly. "Tomorrow at two. He said he talked you up as much as he possibly could."

Kyle's face broke into a wide grin and he turned, wrapping his arms around Kenny's chest and huddling into him. "Ken, this could be it!" he squealed into his warm form.

"Fuck yes it could be," Kenny returned the expression, wrapping back around him. "I'm gonna get you out of this shit, Kyle. I told you that when this mess started and I'm telling you that now. I have a _good_ feeling about this." He rocked the boy back and forth in his arms and Stan couldn't help but smile warmly at the scene. The two of them had smiles, _real_ smilies for the first time in what seemed like forever.

His eyes drifted to the coffee table, his sharp vision picking up some of the words spread out on the page of the list and he raised his brow. He opened his mouth to question it before looking back at the two of them, content and clinging onto each other like nothing else could possibly matter to them. He chuckled to himself and shook his head. The questions could come later, the reality of everything could let itself in at a more opportune time. The noirette couldn't be the one to tear them from maybe the first happy moment they'd had in who knew how long. For now, just three friends sitting in a living room basking in good news and the possibility of a brighter horizon looming over the situation was plenty enough for them.


	7. Chapter 7

He let the door slam behind him, looking around his empty apartment and letting out a long sigh. The plastic grocery bags dangling off of his arms were straining his muscles, the weight bearing down even heavier with every time his mind reminded him that _Cartman_ of all people paid for them. The tired redhead walked into the kitchen and hurriedly threw the bags on the table, sliding his arms out of the plastic rings and rubbing his skin gently. His eyes flickered to the calender on the wall beside the fridge. Tuesday. He had three days left. It was like the worst countdown in the world for him. He had no idea just what kind of people Cartman would be pitting him against. He shuddered, reaching into a bag and beginning to grab at random items to put away.

He couldn't help but feel utter disgust with himself. Being sold as a plaything by his arch enemy of all people. It was definitely something he never thought would happen when he found himself at the top of his class in high school. He knew he was smart, he _knew_ that he deserved better than the crap hand he was dealt with. Eighteen year old Kyle would be throwing a fucking fit if he knew just what his future self ended up becoming. He sighed again, throwing pounds of chicken and hamburger into the freezer and fridge.

He also knew that it didn't matter at this point. No matter how much potential he had, it didn't make money just fall out of the sky. He chuckled humorlessly to himself as he reminded himself that his job was now indeed to 'make it rain'. A small meow perked his ears and he glanced at the archway, smirking at his and Kenny's cat.

"Hey, Doodle," he greeted him. The cat bounded onto a chair and rubbed against his arm and he chuckled. "Yes, I remembered you at the store you little ingrate," he patted him, searching through bags and pulling out a small container of wet food. "Been forever since we could get you an actual treat," he said, scratching behind his ear and listening to his purring, feeling a warmth radiating in his chest. He loved the cat to death, ever since Kenny had brought him home after he found him on the street one day. He knew in the back of his mind that having a pet was just another expense, but between the way Doodle curled up against him the minute they met and the way that Kenny's eyes were pleading with such a wonderfully child-like innocence as he asked if they could keep him, there was just no way he could put him back on the street.

"C'mon," he jerked his head, walking over to his food bowl. Doodle followed him eagerly as he popped the top off the food and dumped it atop his kibble. "Eat up," he said, watching amusedly as he did just that, practically diving his face down into it. Kyle gave a pat on his back, grimacing as he felt a small matt in the confines of his thick fur. Brushing the damn thing every day just never mattered anymore. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as he made his way back to his groceries, chuckling at the ideal that only Kenny would find a goddamn Maine Coon and not one that was easier to maintain. But that was maybe the only thing for Kyle that Kenny had never made easy.

He loved that about him, how even in the worst of situations that they had somehow landed in, Kenny could still make him smile. If it was anyone else, he probably just wouldn't be able to make it through the day. However, he knew that he was breaking Kenny down and he was disgusted over it, more so with that than the fact that he fucked people for money could ever make his stomach churn. Kenny was always possessive of him, in the good way, he hated when other people hugged Kyle or touched his hair or anything that the blonde considered intimate. He always felt as though that was _his_ privilege and his alone; and Kyle was inclined to agree. He hated what Kenny had to watch him doing, often begging him to just leave the room and let him get it over with. But the blonde was fiercely protective of him, it was rare that he'd ever let him go out alone with people unless they already knew who it was Kyle was dealing with. Even before the whole mess had started, even when they were sneaking around everyone and hiding how they felt about each other, Kenny had always had the strong instinct to protect him. Kyle accepted it, though he knew he was more than capable of handling himself. Kenny was the only person allowed to treat him as though he could break at any moment without unleashing the redhead's fiery wrath. It was never a bad thing to feel so loved, especially for so long.

He sighed to himself, remembering how ungracefully Stan had learned about how long the two of them had been together. He hated the fact that he'd lied to his best friend for so long, but he knew that Stan would have had major reserves if he knew that instead of always studying like Kyle told him he was, he was making out with Kenny back behind City Wok. Besides, he knew Ken was right, Stan would have let on to his parents that the two of them were a couple if he'd known back in high school.

He groaned as his parents flashed through his mind. He didn't know what to think of the two of them. He knew if he'd picked nearly any other guy in the world, they wouldn't have cared less. But no, he had to fall for someone who had redneck parents and not a penny to his name, and somehow, to his mom and dad, that made Kenny 'not good enough' to be considered part of the Broflovski clan. He snorted, looking around at their apartment. If only they could see how he was living now, how now _he_ was the lowest of the low, lower than even Kenny's parents with how he was making money at all. Kyle much rather would be selling drugs than his body, but he didn't know the first thing about any of that, and apparently Kenny had already been caught doing that so he didn't particularly want to spend time in jail, either.

He continued shoving cans and boxes into cabinets, marveling at the sight of food actually being in the house. He was so used to nothing but ramen and tap water anymore. Seeing boxes of pasta and jars of soup was like a fervent dream of memories past anymore, and he couldn't help but cringe guiltily, knowing that Kenny had grown up with that kind of lifestyle. He couldn't help himself for yearning for more though, it was how he'd been raised. He always had food and electricity and heat growing up, the fact that he and Kenny had their periods where they had to choose which ones were more important did nothing short of drive the boy stark-raving mad. He bit his lip, looking over at the clock. 2:30. Kenny had gone back to the factory for a second interview and Stan was giving him a ride while Kyle went and got food. His chest pounded excitedly, a second interview usually resulted in good things. He was so proud of the blonde he could hardly contain himself before the boy walked out of the door behind Stan. He'd childishly thrown his arms around him and shaken him and pure excitement before he left, and Kenny gave him that smile that only Kyle could ever receive and he relished in it.

Another meow tore his attention from shoving empty bags into one another, looking back and finding Doodle staring up at him expectantly. He snorted, "Yeah, I got you more but you're not having more than one a day, Buddy. We don't need you getting fat on us, you're big enough." He tossed the empty bags under the sink and walked into the living room, Doodle plodding behind him. He fell down onto the couch with a heavy sigh, oofing as the cat jumped up onto his lap. He chuckled, running his fingers through the thick fur as he lied down on his thighs, purring and curling his paws towards each other. "Spoiled little shit," he rolled his eyes, sighing and leaning his elbow onto the arm of the couch, resting his cheek in his palm. His fingers mindlessly scratched along Doodle's back, tracing over one of the stripes that had inspired Kenny to decide on his name.

" _It looks like someone took a paintbrush and just doodled all the fuck over him!"_ He could remember Kenny shouting excitedly as Doodle had been chewing on the edge of their rug as they tried to decide what to call him. _"We either name him Doodle or motherfucking Carpet Muncher, Kyle. You choose which."_ Kyle couldn't help but burst into laughter at the memory, prompting the cat to give him an annoyed look before turning his attention back in front, shutting his eyes to the feeling of Kyle's slender fingers tousling through his fur.

"You're lucky, ya know," he said softly, smiling at him fondly. "All you have to worry about is going in the damn litter box and how often we feed you. You don't have to worry about money," his smile dropped slowly along with his heart. "You don't have to be a whore just so you and Ken can eat. You don't have to be the absolute worst thing in the world just because the bills won't pay themselves..." he trailed off and sighed exhaustedly. "You don't have to be what you hate so much," he whispered, twiddling a bit of fur between his index and middle finger. "You think I'll ever get out of this, Doodle?" he asked him. "Most people my age are at school or married or...doing _something_ that isn't so bad, ya know?" he shrugged, looking up at the ceiling. "I mean, goddamn. I'm twenty one and haven't had a real job in fucking eight months. And I fucking sleep with people who are usually twice my age...I haven't slept with Kenny in so goddamn long I don't even remember what it's like anymore..." he threw his head back against the back of the couch, his eyes drooping sadly. "I wonder if he considers leaving me over it," he said softly.

He shut his eyes, his mind playing back vivid memories of how he and Kenny had started out. How Kyle had never done anything with anyone and was a complete nervous wreck, how patient Kenny had been with him, waiting a good year and a half until Kyle was ready to take it further than just making out like crazy for hours on end. How sweet he'd been about it, how he made sure that every move was okay on Kyle's end before proceeding. He treated him like a delicate artifact, something that Kyle appreciated as completely shaky as he'd been over the entire scenario. And then he remembered how after that first night, they couldn't keep their hands off each other. Handjobs in the school bathroom, fucking like crazy in Kenny's house since his parents were never around, entire weekends spent naked in each other's arms. Kyle's chest twisted guiltily as his eyes creaked back open, feeling a small sheen of stinging tears glistening over his irises. It was too much.

He missed Kenny's arms more than anything. He missed the utter connectivity that they had, how fierce and passionate it had been right up until that first blowjob for a measly fifty dollars one night. Then Kyle just couldn't bring himself to be like that with his boyfriend anymore. He tried. He tried so hard sometimes to just move over and make Kenny remember with him just how well they fit together. But images of Kenny's broken face after he fucked a stranger, the taste of unfamiliar men on his tongue re-emerging, visions of the fact that he let others touch him...they held him back. A part of him was terrified, absolutely livid with the idea that Kenny looked at him like nothing more than a whore, and sleeping with him again would make those thoughts so adamant that the blonde would just pack up and leave at the very _idea_ of touching him again. Kyle knew that was a stupid notion to have, he knew well enough that Kenny loved him with everything he had. However, the constant guilt that pressed down into him did nothing but dissuade him from making that move, regardless of how bad he wanted to.

He sniffled, wiping the unshed tears from his eyes. He looked back down, his vision falling on the list Cartman had left him, still untouched. He couldn't bring himself to do it. He just couldn't hand Eric Cartman over a list of things that he was cool with in the bedroom, especially considering his fairly extensive list. Being with the same person for six years led to a lot of experimentation, and Kyle was fairly fond of things far from vanilla. The idea of Cartman knowing about his turn-on's was just something that he didn't want to happen. It would just end up being another thing that the fatass could hold over his head, like he didn't have enough ammo against the poor guy already.

"What a mess, Doodle," he whispered, shaking his head and petting the cat softly. "This is all too much...and now all four of us are involved and...fuck what a mess," he whimpered. Doodle let out a small chirp at his voice and pushed his head up against Kyle's hand. The redhead laughed a bit, continuing to stroke over his forehead gently. "Lucky, lucky shit," he smirked sadly. They both jolted at the sound of the door opening, watching it fly open to reveal Kenny with a large grin on his face.

Kyle's mouth slowly returned the expression, "Please tell me that smile means what I think it means."

He nodded excitedly, "I got the job!"

Kyle quickly threw Doodle onto the cushion beside him much to the cat's dismay and leaped off the couch, running over and throwing his arms around the blonde. "Holy fuck holy fuck I can't believe it!" he screamed into the boy's chest, feeling the strong arms wrapping back around him tightly.

"I told you I felt good about it!" Kenny grinned, nuzzling into Kyle's hair excitedly.

"Okay okay, either in or out you two," Stan snorted, standing outside behind Kenny with a bemused expression as he watched the two of them.

Kenny and Kyle made their way towards the couch, never relinquishing their embrace and falling onto the cushions together. "I'm so proud of you, Ken," Kyle beamed.

He chuckled and kissed his lips deeply, "I'm proud of me, too." He winked and ruffled Kyle's hair a bit.

Stan closed the door and walked in, plopping down into their chair and smiling at the two of them, "Ky, you know what this means, right?"

Kyle nodded, a devious glint in his eyes. "I don't have to be a fucking whore, that's what it means!"

"Damn straight," Kenny said, grabbing his cell phone out of his pocket. "We're gonna call Cartman right the fuck now and tell him the deal is fucking off." He quickly scrolled through names and clicked on Cartman's putting it on speaker and smugly nuzzling into Kyle. He kissed his head as it rang and grinned at the boy. "I told you I'd save you from this bullshit."

"I knew you would," he smiled gratefully at him, kissing his cheek and huddling into his side as they stared at the phone.

" _I'm a busy man, Po'Boy, this better be good,"_ Cartman answered.

"In fact, it's _great,_ " Kenny said snidely. "Kyle doesn't have to be your whore, so you can just take your little gossipy secrets and your little auction for my boyfriend and shove them straight up your fat ass, you piece of shit."

A moment of quiet passed before the clear sound of a door shutting came through and Cartman chuckled a bit, _"Oh? And just why doesn't he have to be my whore now?"_

"Because Kenny got a job, that's why, Fatass," Kyle smirked, crossing his arms and looking at the phone with a quirked brow. "He's making money, therefore we're fucking safe and don't need me to be fucking old men just for petty change."

Another laugh, _"Oh really? Just how much are you gonna be making, Kinny?"_

"Nine dollars an hour," he scoffed. "Plenty enough."

" _Hmmm you may wanna do the math on that one, Po'Boy. How many hours a week?"_

Kenny froze, "Well...thirty."

" _Kahl, you're a math whiz, fucking do the numbers for him, will you?"_

Kyle blinked before grabbing his own phone out of his pocket and quickly typing in numbers. "Okay, nine dollars an hour for thirty hours a week times four weeks typically in a month...before taxes it's only about $1,080..." he bit his lip and looked at Kenny worriedly. "Ken...our rent is $650 a month...a-and that's not including electric and internet and food..."

Kenny's face fell drastically. "No, no, no, do _not_ tell me what I think you're about to tell me."

" _Looks like Kahl's gonna be working Friday night after all,"_ Cartman chuckled. Kyle's form slumped and he stared at the carpet with glistening eyes. _"Besides, it wouldn't have mattered if you were making thirty dollars an hour, Kinny. Kahl agreed if_ _ **he**_ _got a real job, he was out automatically. Never said a damn thing about you in that little contract. And if he breaks the rules of said contract, well, remember that he's a fucking prostitute you dumbshit and I can get his scrawny Jew ass thrown in the slammer. Don't try to fuck around with me. Now, I have to get back to my real job, I don't have time to deal with you right now. Kahl, do the list and you can give it to me tonight, I'll stop by after work,"_ he paused and let out another small laugh at their silence. _"Sorry to crush your spirits...well not really,_ " he snorted before the sound of him hanging up echoed around.

Stan watched sympathetically as Kenny and Kyle both sunk down into the couch, their hands intertwining as they stared blankly at the floor. "Fuck...Ky, I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," he said quietly. "I applied for about four jobs today...maybe I'll get _really_ lucky and someone'll call me tomorrow..." he looked up at Kenny a bit, who looked back with defeated eyes.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly. "Dammit, if I was making two more goddamn dollars per hour we probably would've been fine."

"We still would be cutting it close," Kyle murmured, leaning over against him. Doodle plodded up between the two of them on Kenny's lap and they stared at him tiredly. "Goddammit. There was so much fucking hope for a second there."

He nodded, "Yeah. And now he knows I'm a fucking impulsive idiot and that's going to be held over my head for a long time," he rolled his eyes.

"Not as much as everything held over mine," Kyle replied. "And you're not an idiot. You just wanted so badly to get me out of this you got a little hasty," he looked up at him and gave him a gentle smile. "I definitely don't hold that against you."

Kenny gave him a sad smile and squeezed his hand, "Maybe you can get a callback, maybe I can find a second job. We still got three days...who knows?"

Stan watched the two of them, nodding slowly with their words. "Don't give up hope, you two. I'm sure things will work out."

Kyle sighed, turning on the couch and facing Kenny with another grin, "Regardless of the fact that it's not what we wanted...I'm still really proud of you."

He smirked and shrugged, "Woulda been prouder of me if I'd managed to snag a better paying job but...what're ya gonna do, ya know?"

"Right now," Kyle started, clasping both his hands around Kenny's, "We need to just take what we can get. Besides, that's $1000 a month to put back once Cartman's not paying our rent anymore. We can...we can save up and do something for us or something like that. I think that'd be nice, don't you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah we'll save up a bit and maybe you and I can get away from here for a weekend or something."

Stan chuckled, "I think that'd do the two of you some good."

Kyle nodded in agreement, "I think..." he leaned back into the blonde and looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. "I think that we should save up and go out to Denver or something. Somewhere not super expensive but also the complete goddamn opposite of South Park, ya know?"

Ken snorted and kissed his head, "God knows I hate this place. I'd rather lick Satan's taint than stay here the rest of my life."

"Me, too," Kyle muttered sleepily. "Especially considering how many fucking strangers I've had to pass on the street who know me a lot more intimately than I would like..." he sighed and shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. "And now there's going to be even more."

Kenny's shoulders sunk and he looked at Stan helplessly. "Thanks for taking me today," he said quietly. "Guess I need to look up bus pass prices," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

Stan shook his head. "Nah, Dude. Your shifts are always earlier than mine, I'll come and take ya. Just help me out with gas a little bit now and again and it's no problem."

"You sure?" he raised his brow.

He nodded, "Definitely. Buses smell like piss anyway," he shrugged. "I don't mind, gives us an excuse to hang out a little more," he smirked.

"I feel like we've been hanging out a lot the past few weeks," Kenny gave a small one back.

"Well hanging out under better circumstances, how's that?" he chuckled. Stan directed his attention over to the redhead still nuzzled into Kenny's side, noticing that he was taking deep breaths, as though smelling Ken and taking comfort in his scent. He couldn't say he'd be surprised, Kyle had a habit of doing so whenever he got stressed out. He had told him the year before that something about the way Kenny smelled always got him to calm down and re-evaluate his situations. Stan called him a raging faggot over that but anything to make him feel better was good enough at this point. The boy's green eyes opened and looked to the papers on the coffee table, Stan following his gaze. "So..." he started and the two on the couch looked at him. "What is that list exactly?" he asked.

Kyle sighed and that ever-present blush erupted through his cheeks once again, "Cartman gave it to me for customers," he rolled his eyes. "So whoever he sets me up with knows my boundaries I suppose."

Stan winced, "Well...that's...good?" he bit his lip. He had no idea how to respond to that. The situation was horrible, but the idea of Kyle not being forced into something _else_ that made him feel unsafe or uncomfortable was a miniscule baby step towards the right direction.

Kyle sighed again and nodded, reaching over and grabbing the list, pulling a pen off the table as well. He and Kenny looked down, reading over it and Stan watched as the pen struck through a few listed. The redhead shuddered, "I can't believe I have to fucking specify that bestiality is not fucking okay."

Kenny just smirked a bit, pointing to the list, "You'd be okay with trying that with me?"

"Fuck off," he muttered, grimacing at the task at hand.

Stan watched the two of them confusedly, "Dude, Ken, you're okay with just watching this?"

"No, no I'm not," he muttered, looking up at him with tired blue eyes. "But it's what's happening, and I'd rather know just what it is Kyle's going to get himself possibly thrown into."

Stan nodded, "That makes sense..." he looked up at the clock on their wall and sighed, getting to his feet. "I gotta get to work. You two...try to be all right, okay?"

Kyle looked up at him and smiled softly, "We'll do our best."

"Call me if you need me," he waved, pivoting on his heel and heading towards their door.

"See ya, Stan," Kenny called after him. "Thanks again, Dude."

"No prob," he called out before walking out of the apartment. Ken and Kyle watched after him a few moments before looking back at each other.

"I'm still sorry," Kenny sighed, dropping his gaze to the list clutched in Kyle's hands. "Fuck I hate watching you do this."

"Well...it's where we are," Kyle shrugged. "And it _is_ kind of nice that I don't have to worry about someone shitting on me or shoving curling irons up my ass or something..." he bit his lip. "Ken...we both know that this is inevitable lest I find another job, right?"

He tensed but nodded, "Yeah."

"Then help me do this list," he urged.

Ken raised his brow, "Ky, you know your kinks better-"

"Okay, one, that's a lie and you know it," he challenged. " _You_ know my body better than I do. But two...I want you to tell me exactly which ones of these are your favorites to do with me."

"Why?" he cocked his head.

He blushed and cleared his throat, "Because...those are the things that I'll only do with you. Because something here needs preserved...and...if I get back to the point where I'm not _so_ disgusted with myself I'm not racked with guilt having sex with you again...I don't want you to be there thinking I've done something particular with someone else. It'd be nice to have that separation between, for a lack of better term, work and home; to have something special reserved for just the two of us, you know?"

Kenny smiled a bit and nodded, "I'd like that...but Kyle, you need to not be so disgusted with yourself. I don't look at you when you're getting dressed or whatever and see everyone you've been with. I only see you, Dude."

He sighed, "Maybe you don't see them...but I do. They haunt me, Ken..." he trailed off a bit and stared down at Doodle still perched on Kenny's lap. "I just hope this all ends sooner rather than later, ya know? I want to go back to just being Kenny and Kyle. Not Kenny and Kyle and oh look there's a line a mile long of all the grown men that Kyle's fucked trailing behind them like a conga line because he's such a goddamn whore."

Kenny narrowed his eyes, "Kyle, fucking _stop_."

He looked at him with confused eyes, "What?"

"Stop calling yourself a whore, Dude. You're _not_. You're a desperate guy who's doing what they can to keep our little family afloat, okay? There's no shame in that."

He chuckled a bit and shook his head, "Ken...there's so much goddamn shame in this it's almost unbearable..." he put the list down and grabbed Kenny's hand tightly. "You're the only thing keeping me going at this point," he looked up at him with dulled eyes. "I don't know how or why you haven't left me."

"Because I love ya, ya fucking idiot," he scoffed. "I ain't gonna throw away six years of us just 'cause yer doin' this." He paused and cleared his throat. "I mean, _you_ are doin _g_ what _you_ can _for_ us." he struggled out.

Kyle looked at him amusedly, "Why are you beating back your accent?"

He sighed exasperatedly, "Because I don't like being like my parents. I know you said you like the accent or whatever but I just can't-"

"Stop," Kyle put a finger on his lips and chuckled. "It's not the accent I like so much as what you say," he grinned sheepishly. "I get not wanting to be like your parents. Trust me, you know I'm in the same boat."

"Well you _are_ unlike your folks," he shrugged. "You're poor for one thing, and you're a decent person who wouldn't throw someone out just for being not up to your standards..." he trailed off, looking away guiltily.

"Hey," Kyle said, grasping his chin and forcing his gaze back onto him. "You are up to _my_ standards and that's all that fucking counts. We don't need my parents and we don't need yours. We're gonna make it just the two of us and leave them in the dust, all right? Those fuckers are all gonna regret not realizing how good they had it with us." Kenny grinned at him lopsidedly, leaning down and meeting his lips. Kyle threw the list beside him on the couch and wrapped his arms around Kenny's neck, pulling him in as close as he could manage. He pulled back slightly, still lingering on his lips with a smile. "I love you."

Kenny sighed happily, "Love you, too," he replied before taking his mouth once again. The two of them wrapped around each other, Kenny blindly shooing Doodle off his lap and pulling the boy in closer. For that moment, the list was forgotten, the complete rise and fall of emotions of earlier was left in their wake. They knew all they had was each other, and they were more than content with that in the silence of their home. It was all they had ever needed. For now, the impending countdown to Kyle's 'debut' was in the back of their minds, all that mattered was the two of them wrapped up in the warm embrace of each other's care.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I keep forgetting I have this story uploaded on here whoops eventually I'll get it caught up to where it should be
> 
> Also this chapter is extremely awkward in that the pairing that does the do is extremely awkward and weird but hey it made goddamn sense for the story.
> 
> Surprisingly I didn't lose readers on ffnet over this'n buuttttt I'm not gonna hold my head too high in hoping that it'll remain the same here pft
> 
> Enjoy and thanks for your patience

The four boys walked silently down the sidewalk as dusk began to creep its way over their town. Kenny and Stan fidgeted uncomfortably, stealing glances down at an equally tensive Kyle. Cartman kept a small, sly grin on his face as they all made their way towards Kyle's first rendezvous. He glanced over at the redhead and snorted, "Don't look like you have such a stick up your ass, Jew. That'll come later."

"Ugghhh," Kyle groaned, letting his head fall limply towards the ground. "Cartman...don't make me do this."

"I'm not 'making' you, you agreed to," he replied smartly. "Besides, this guy is a little weird, but he won't hurt you. I have _way_ too much on him."

"How much money are we getting out of this, Fatass?" he grimaced, raising his head back up and narrowing his eyes.

Cartman smirked, "You'll know once you do your job, Kahl. He gets you for three hours, and he's paying by the hour. Trust me, you'll be wishing you had a longer session." Kyle just shuddered, scratching his thigh irritably. Cartman had insisted he put on his nice khaki dress slacks, the ones he used for job interviews, for his 'date'. He inwardly grumbled about how he'd never be able to interview in them again, they'd probably be stained with god knows what for the rest of eternity. The collar on a tight green polo shirt was driving him absolutely mad, and he couldn't tell if it was the fact that he so rarely wore them, or because he knew he was dressing up for a stranger. He didn't even dress to the nines for Kenny, he felt disgusted having to gift wrap himself for some pervert.

"What do I have to do exactly?" Kyle mumbled tiredly, feeling Kenny stroking his arm reassuringly out of Cartman's view.

"You're going to meet the client, drink with them for about an hour, and then you're going to go to a motel room that I booked and do whatever he wants," he looked at him with a cocked brow. "It's simple stuff, Jew." Kyle's temper was quickly beginning to rise at his nonchalance, but he knew that it wasn't going to get him anywhere at this point. It was happening and nothing short of finding a winning lottery ticket on the ground was going to change it. "Now, Stan, Kinny, and I will be sitting away from you at the restaurant, but still in full view. I booked specific tables, saying they were 'business meetings'," he rolled his eyes. "Then you and the client are going to walk to the motel down the street," he gestured his thumb. "The three of us will follow you and wait in the parking lot. The client's already been informed that once the time is up, _you_ are to leave the room first so we know he didn't snap your neck or some shit."

Kyle nodded, gulping and feeling Kenny gripping at his arm tighter. "Who is this guy anyway?" the blonde snapped.

Cartman's eyes sliced over the three of them and he let a wicked grin pass over his face. "Oh, you'll know him when you see him. Don't worry, Kahl. I made sure that it was someone that you knew decently enough that you wouldn't be uncomfortable fucking a complete stranger for your first time."

Kyle's brow raised suspiciously, "I...I'm not sure which option is better here, to be honest."

The brunette chuckled lowly as they approached Buca de Faggoncini, each of them looking up at the large building. Stan, Kenny and Kyle all shuddered, both on either side of the redhead wanting nothing more than to swoop him up and run him away from whatever was waiting for him. Cartman led the way and they followed begrudgingly, each of them glaring at the way-too-chipper hostess who led them into the main alcove. "I had two table reservations under 'Eric Cartman'," the large boy informed the girl. "One of the associates should already be here."

She glanced over a list and gave him a smile and a nod, "Yes, he's already seated at the window table you requested."

"Excellent, we'll show ourselves over," he smirked, grasping Kyle's arm and leading him into the thrall, Ken and Stan close behind.

Stan leaned over and whispered to Kenny, "Dude, I don't like the way he was talking about this guy," he murmured. "Who do we know who can afford this kind of shit?"

"I don't-" he tried to respond before stopping short, his face falling disgustedly. Stan followed his gaze with Kyle. An older, balding man sat there, staring at his menu. His glasses hung on the bridge of his nose, his finger tapping against the table in impatience.

The redhead looked up at Cartman, his face beaming pure red and furious hisses coming from gritted teeth. "Is that fucking _Mr. Garrison?!"_ he screeched under his breath.

Cartman smirked and shrugged, "He offered the most, so he got your time. You've fucked guys older than him."

"No one that he _knew_ you dick!" Stan spat.

"For fuck's sake, Cartman, what's wrong with you?! Call this off!" Kenny demanded.

He glanced between the three of them and scoffed. "You were put up for auction and he was willing to give the most, Jew. Apparently dipped into his 401k just for the opportunity," he grinned. "Now. You're going to do this, or you're going to jail. What'll it be?"

Kyle's face fell and he looked over at Kenny, his green eyes glistening. "I...I..." he dropped his head defeatedly.

"Good," Eric nodded curtly. "Stan, Kinny, go sit over there," he waved towards a table against the wall. "I need to go introduce Kahl."

Stan and Kenny watched them walk off, Cartman practically dragging a humiliated Kyle across the floor. "I'll kill him, Stan," the blonde growled. "I swear to god before this is all over, I'll have his fat head on a platter." Stan silently nodded, patting his shoulder before starting to lead them over towards the table Cartman had specified. They watched with furrowed brows as the two of them made their way over to their former teacher's table.

Herbert looked up from the table, blinking in shock at the redhead grasped in Cartman's arm. "Kyle? Kyle Broflovski?"

"Hi...Mr...Garrison," he mumbled, shying down and trembling in embarrassment.

"He'll be your companion for the evening," Cartman said smoothly, shoving Kyle down into the opposite side of the booth across from Garrison. "Have a _wonderful_ time," he smiled before turning and walking off, his face in a victorious smirk and his arms crossed behind his back.

Kyle and Herbert looked at each other in silence, Kyle still blushing like mad as he struggled to sit himself up from being forced into the cushion. "Well," Herbert chuckled. "You're the _one_ person I ever taught that I never thought would end up like this."

"You and me both," he grumbled, staring at the table. Their waiter came up to the table, asking for Kyle's drink order. He grabbed his license out of his wallet and practically threw it at the poor worker. "Mojito with the _strongest_ rum you have and don't skimp on it," he bit his lip pleadingly. The waiter nodded slowly and quickly turned to get away from the distressed boy.

Herbert burst out laughing, taking a sip of his merlot. "Well, Eric wasn't lying, this _is_ the first time you've done this, isn't it?"

"Ugh," he groaned, placing his forehead into his palm and shaking. "Yeah, yeah it is."

He smirked, "Come on, Kyle, you know I'm not going to hit you or anything."

Kyle looked up at him and took a deep breath, "That's not the problem and you know it, Mr. Garrison."

"Herbert," he corrected. "I'm not your teacher anymore."

He blinked at him, dropping his hand and looking at the man with the discomfort still plainly etched on his pale face. "No offense... _Herbert_ ," he forced out, the name feeling unfamiliar on his tongue. "But...I figured you'd be into...you know...guys your own age?" he winced.

He shrugged, "I like to dabble around where I can. Only so many gay men my age in this goddamn town," he rolled his eyes. "Most of 'em are married and 'against cheating'," he air quoted. "Total punch in the balls, lemme tell ya."

The tiniest hint of a smile crossed over Kyle's face before it reassumed its position. He glanced over at the three sitting across the room, seeing them all staring at him intently. Cartman circled his hand in front of him with a glare, gesturing him to keep the conversation moving with Garrison. He cleared his throat and nodded slowly at the man in front of him. "So...you...still teach?" he asked.

He nodded, "Yep, up into the fifth grade. Still wanna strangle all the little bastards. I tell ya, more and more Eric Cartmans are popping up every year, I swear."

Kyle chuckled a little, "I'm sorry. Sounds like a living hell."

He smirked, "It is. Not too many Kyle Broflovskis seem to be poppin' up though," he raised his brow. "Just what happened to ya, Kyle? I was at your graduation, I know how well you did. How does a smart kid like you end up like this?"

He shied down and shrugged. "My parents...kicked me out a-and I lost my job so...here I am. Can't use my smarts to make money spew out of my ass," he grimaced.

He scoffed, "Not surprised your mother did that to ya. Batshit insane that woman, I don't know how you put up with it. When your little brother was in my class in fourth grade I nearly decked her in the face for starting another of her 'causes'."

He laughed, "It's probably bad that I wish you would have, huh?" his shoulders relaxed in the slightest as Garrison joined his laughter. His drink was set in front of him and he quickly thanked the waiter before bringing the straw to his lips and sucking out as much of the minty, burning liquid as quickly as he could. He looked up, seeing Herbert staring at his mouth intently and he coughed in embarrassment once again, putting his glass back on the table awkwardly. He scratched his fingers through his hair, stealing another glance at his friends.

"So," Herbert started. "Just who is it you think you're cheatin' on?"

Kyle looked up at him in shock. "What...whaddya mean?"

He raised his brow and smiled at him amusedly. "Kyle, you know I've had my share of hookers or escorts or whatever the hell you are. And you have that guilty look of 'oh my god I'm such a whore for cheating' all _over_ your face."

Kyle blinked. He didn't realize he was so blatantly obvious about it, but it wasn't surprising. All he could think about was his boyfriend's face. "Do uh...do you remember Kenny McCormick?" he shrugged.

He blinked in surprise, "Really? You and Kenny?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, we've been together for six years..." he trailed off and sighed, grabbing his drink and taking another sip, tasting that the bartender didn't let him down and worked in some extra rum. He'd have to tip the hell out of him later.

"Wow..." he mused, sitting back and staring at him in shock. "Six years, that's pretty impressive for someone your age. I'm guessing he's not okay with this whole thing either," he gestured towards the redhead. Kyle shook his head sadly. "Honestly, I thought it'd be you and Stanley with as gay as you two were with each other," he snorted.

Kyle looked up at him with a raised brow. "Really? We were _fourth_ graders and you thought we'd end up together?"

"Can you blame me?" he cackled. "You two were always talkin' about what good friends you were and how 'special' your friendship was. Makin' all those gay-ass speeches with each other all the time and whatnot. I was sure you two would end up bein' the fags, not you and Kenny."

Kyle couldn't help but burst into laughter, covering his mouth with his hand and shaking his head. "God, _no_ ," he chortled. "I love Stan but oh god no I could _never_ do that."

Herbert leaned back with his wine and tipped it towards him a bit, "Ya know, there's lots of stuff all of us think we can never do. Then somethin' happens and you end up on a date with your former teacher."

The redhead's smile fell a bit and his shoulders drooped. "Well...I guess I'd rather it be you than a mass murderer or something of the sort."

"Glad to know I'm so high in your roster," he chuckled. "Don't worry about a thing, Kyle. Believe it or not, it's nice actually _talking_ to someone for once. Ya live alone for so long ya go a little stir crazy and make goddamn puppets outta sticks," he rolled his eyes at himself and Kyle snorted. "If it's any consolation, you're doin' just fine."

Kyle smiled shyly, stirring his mojito a bit. "Good to know this whole business hasn't destroyed my conversational skills I suppose."

"Not till you're garglin' balls at least," Garrison shrugged casually, grinning as Kyle choked on his drink in flustered laughter.

"I suppose that _would_ hinder a few key skills," he chuckled. "Brings out some others, though," he smirked. Herbert raised his brows, impressed at the sliver of boldness peaking through the redhead.

"Well I guess that's for later, isn't it?" he chuckled. "For now," he jerked his head towards Kyle's quarter-filled glass, "I think you need another drink."

* * *

Stan, Kenny and Cartman followed a good ways behind Kyle and Garrison as they made their way towards the motel down the street from the restaurant. Kenny shook his head, watching as his boyfriend stumbled and wavered in his walking "Jesus Christ this is practically rape. Kyle's fuckin' wasted."

"He's coherent, so he's fine," Cartman scoffed. "Besides, he said he was fine being intoxicated while doin' this shit so it doesn't matter." Kenny was silent, watching with a deep growl as Herbert's hand ran up Kyle's back and clenched around his slender shoulder. The man said something inaudible and Kyle laughed, shooting something back and getting a return sniggering. "He's definitely not doing bad, I'll tell you that," Cartman observed amusedly. "Didn't expect him to actually be able to make conversation, thought he'd just be an empty husk for fucking."

"Cartman, don't," Stan said darkly, his blue eyes flickering to Kenny's who were locked on his boyfriend. He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, not getting the slightest reaction. He sighed, rubbing along the blonde's muscle as his eyes drifted back to the two in front of them. He almost couldn't believe how much Kyle and Garrison had been laughing with each other. They'd been talking so much that they'd spent two hours in the restaurant, but Garrison didn't seem to mind too much. In fact he'd taken Kyle on the longer route towards the motel once they finally left. It was just far too surreal for Stan to wrap his brain around at this point.

They followed as Kyle and Garrison turned towards the motel parking lot, Herbert fishing keys for the room out of his pocket. Kyle nudged his arm and murmured something and Herbert nodded, chuckling. They came up to the building and Kyle looked with hazy eyes towards the group lingering in the lot. His and Kenny's gazes locked and he smiled reassuringly before letting Herbert usher him into their room. Kenny just let his shoulders sink, staring at the ground, Stan's comforting gesture doing little as he led him to the stone fence to sit and wait.

It didn't take long for Garrison's hands to snare around Kyle's back and pull him flush against himself. The redhead gulped, his four drinks still swimming in his system and his mind only vaguely aware of just what he was doing. He knew though, he knew he was with his former teacher. He was being whored out. He had just left Kenny in the parking lot to wait for him to be done being fucked. All the rum in the world couldn't drown out that reality.

Lips found his and he blinked before letting his eyes slip shut as Garrison pulled him in closer, fingers wrapping around his shirt's hem. Kyle's brows furrowed at the unfamiliar taste, the merlot-laced tongue sweeping across his lips and demanding access. He parted his teeth, letting the man's hot and heavy breath swelter down into his mouth.

His own hands wrenched up, grasping at Herbert's jacket and slowly starting to unzip it. He knew he couldn't hesitate on this, it had to be done or he'd lose every ounce of nerve and burst out that door straight into a prison cell. A bold hand reached down and grabbed at his ass and he gasped into Garrison's mouth, his nerves trying to kick themselves into gear. He inwardly growled at himself. He'd done this before and for a lot less money than whatever Cartman was promising him. He'd get through this. He forced himself to push up almost violently against the man's mouth, getting a surprised moan out of him. Slender fingers ripped down his zipper and pushed the jacket off his shoulders, tossing it onto the floor.

"Kinda glad you got that extra drink," Garrison chuckled, moving his head and biting on Kyle's neck. The redhead whined a bit, throwing his head back as Herbert's practiced hands squeezed his ass through his khakis, pulling his hips up against his own. He could already feel the bulge pressing against the indent of his hip and he gulped. "Nervous?" A hot breath washed over his neck.

"N-no?" he stammered, the alcohol swirling through his system making him nothing more than a mess of putty in the man's hands.

"You never were a good liar you know," he snorted, grabbing Kyle's shirt and throwing it off his slender frame. Kyle's narrow chest rose and fell almost frantically, muddled green eyes locking with dark brown. Herbert looked at him curiously, grasping his hips and swinging him to face the other way. Slightly withered fingers traced over his spine with delicate ease and a warm breath cascaded over the flesh. "That picture did _not_ do you justice."

"T-thanks," he blinked, shuddering at the feathery touch. He yelped as the gentle caresses shot up into his hair, yanking his head back a bit to stare upside down at the man.

"Safety word is 'Bunny'," he informed him with a smirk. Kyle felt the quick rise of panic starting to try to take him over as Garrison led him to the bed and threw him onto the mattress. He groaned and shook his head, trying to struggle up before a hand snared the back of his neck. "On your hands and knees, eyes at the wall," he said sharply. Kyle shut his eyes and took a deep breath, this taking way too quick a turn for his tastes.

' _Calm down. You've done this with Kenny and you loved it, you can fucking do it here,'_ he ordered himself as he worked himself into position and stared past the headboard at the wall. He gulped, minute tremors working through him as Garrison's hand slid past his waistband and grasped his ass with a strong hand. His teeth grated over his lip as he heard the man ripping off his own shirt and throwing it aside. Kyle's shoes and socks were quickly ripped off, landing in _clunks_ on the floor. A moment of stillness passed over the room and Kyle's body tensed. He could feel the chill of the air conditioning on his bared torso, the warmth still radiating in his face from the combination of rum and shame. It all just felt like way too much, he couldn't help but wish that they'd lost complete track of time in the restaurant and he wouldn't have to do this. His eyes flickered to the digital clock on the nightstand beside him. He had just under a half hour left. _'You can do this. Then you can go home and sleep beside Kenny. He'll make it all right,_ ' he shut his eyes and his breath hitched as his pants and boxers were slowly worked around his thighs and down to his knees bent on cheap polyester sheets.

Another tensive moment passed before a light smack of his ass startled his eyes back open and prompted a small 'eep' to escape his lips. "Well, I always said you were a tight ass, didn't know it was so literal," Garrison chuckled. Kyle's head folded down towards his shoulders in embarrassment, his knees compliantly lifting as the man worked his remaining dignity down and tossed them away. Hands and fingers stroked around his slender hips and thighs, stout grabs of his rear made him shudder. His vision remained on the wall, grateful that he didn't have to look the man in the eye while being molested, it made it a _lot_ easier to imagine it was Kenny instead. Sharp hearing perked at the sound of what seemed to be a bottle opening. He gasped in shock as a cold, lubed hand grabbed his cock and stroked him genially. "See, it ain't all that bad," Garrison cooed. Kyle's fingers dug into the sheets beneath him, his arms shaking as he felt that all-too-familiar warmth starting to creep into his system. Teeth furiously grated hard against pale pink lips, that radiant red in his cheeks spreading to his ears and through his neck.

He nearly cursed as the man got him erect and let go of his cock, wiping his slathered hand on the bed. Kyle's ears stayed alert, hearing him walk over to another part of the room and a small clinking sound. He narrowed his eyes confusedly before the hand on the back of his neck came back full force, shoving his chest down onto the bed. His slender wrists were grasped and wrenched behind his back and he couldn't help his instinct to struggle against the sudden assault. He felt his appendages snared in chilled metal and he shuddered, shutting his eyes and furrowing his brows. _'You said this was okay, you have to calm the fuck down!'_ he shouted to himself. Garrison suddenly snared his chin and his eyes shot open as he was clumsily whipped around, finding a thick cock standing erect in his face.

"Well?" Herbert looked at him expectantly. Kyle took a deep breath, swallowing that mortifying feeling trying to creep back up on him as he opened his mouth, taking the head in and suckling on the tip. He felt Garrison grabbing onto his bound wrists and holding him up as he began bobbing his head along the skin. The redhead hated how a part of his mind was thankful that Garrison wasn't as long as others he'd been with, considering he didn't have his hands to work with. He found himself wondering once again if he could work that expertise planning onto a resume. The man moaned, free fingers playing through Kyle's curls, grasping and tugging as he thrust lightly into his mouth. Kyle's jaw was already aching, his back locking up from the lack of support underneath him. His bangs were tickling his forehead and skewing his vision. Just way too much for him to handle so soon, way too much to be experience with his former elementary school teacher of all people. Most of all, it was way too much for him to be doing at Cartman's beck and call.

"I may be your first job but this isn't your first time doin' this is it?" Garrison managed to chuckle out. Kyle just blushed, keeping his pace, letting his tongue roam around the unfamiliar skin on its own accord. He was just trying to separate himself from reality at this point, trying to imagine that this was just some sick nightmare and he'd wake up and go to a _real_ job. Those thoughts were quickly diluted, his mind's wanderings cut off as lubed fingers reached down around him and one slid into the tight ring of his ass. He yelped in surprise, being shoved back down onto the man's cock with a firm push. He winced as he was thrust into from both ends by the man, one and then two more fingers pressing into his muscles, stretching and twisting him in ways that he was more than used to, and more than disgusted with himself for being so adapted.

Their dance continued for long enough for Kyle's hole to practically welcome the fingers, his mouth numb from the continuous bitter assault. Herbert ripped out of both ends, Kyle's mouth slack with saliva dripping down his chin and his ass feeling the left void sickeningly. "All right," the man smiled, cupping his chin yet again, his glasses glaring into Kyle's widened eyes. He pushed Kyle up onto his knees and reached down behind the boy, grabbing something and moving so quickly that the redhead didn't even have the time to react as a rubber ball found itself shoved into his mouth. He screeched in surprise, forcing his body to go rigid and not bash his head against Garrison like his instincts were screaming to do. "There ya go," the man smirked, securing the gag around his head. He stepped back and admired his handiwork, Kyle bent down with his captive wrists still torn behind him, muscles gleaming and taut, his cock straight and red, practically pressed against his slender stomach. He couldn't help but notice how the gag looked almost painful in Kyle's small mouth, the boy's jade eyes glistening in the need to get this all over with.

"Only once, I promise," he laughed, grabbing Kyle and twirling him to the side, pressing his chest down against the sheets once more. Kyle groaned, managing to turn his head to the side, watching the man carefully as he grabbed a condom from the nightstand and ripped off the foil, slowly rolling it down onto his skin, staring intently at the boy. More lube was squirted onto his hand, rubbing over the covered skin slowly as he worked up behind Kyle, caressing his ass before giving it a sharp slap, listening to his yelp as he licked his lips. He grabbed between Kyle's thighs and pulled them apart, lowering his hips and beginning to line himself up against the rosette between his asscheeks. Kyle's breathing increased, his heart pounding madly as he realized his vulnerability, realized that Kenny, Stan, and Cartman were clear across the parking lot. It wouldn't take much for the man rubbing his cock over his opening to do him in before they could get to him.

He let out a whine of panic, but to Garrison, it sounded like one of impatience. "Well since you asked so nicely," he purred before slowly edging himself into the boy. Kyle squeaked, his muscles flaring around the intrusion angrily. He shut his eyes, rubbing his burning cheek against the cool sheets beneath him as he felt the man's balls come to a stop against his ass. Herbert took a long, shuddery breath. "Goddamn, Kyle," he smirked, grasping his hips and beginning to rock himself back and forth out of the tightness surrounding his aching cock. Kyle just moaned, letting his body limply follow Garrison's rhythm. "C'mon now," the man grunted, slapping his ass sharply. "Show me you want it."

Kyle swallowed a thick chunk of vomit trying to worm its way up, using his knees and trying to weakly propel himself back against the invasion. He grunted, his thighs screaming from their spread position, the feeling of his drool cascading down his chin and cheek beginning to disgust him as it puddled onto the bed beneath him. His wrists were aching, pulled against the edges of the handcuffs, raw and reddened from their confinement. He bent his hips a bit as he pressed against Garrison's rhythm, angling the man's cock straight up into his prostate to alleviate some of the discomfort. He let out a heady moan as it hit its target, shuddering and letting his muscles clamp around the cock inside of him.

"Jesus christ," Garrison hissed, his pace increasing and one of his hands reaching down and pushing down onto Kyle's head. Kyle screamed around his gag, his hips still pushing furiously back against the man and getting all the stimulation that he could out of it. His own cock was throbbing achingly between his legs, the wet sound of Garrison's balls slapping down into his thighs echoed around them in a sickening sound. The sheets sliding under his face were starting to burn his skin, and the overwhelming mass of feelings clouding the boy prompted confused tears to begin leaking down his cheeks. He hated this, he wanted this. He couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening to his body as each push against that bundle of nerves made his head spin. His teeth dug into his gag, increasing his own pace, trying to dip his hips against the bed to get _some_ kind of friction against his aching dick.

"Guess you're a natural, hmm?" Garrison teased. Kyle groaned in response, his head flushed but his mind anywhere but the taunts. He just wanted this to be over. He wanted the man to finish, he wanted to cum, and he wanted to go home. He felt Herbert getting a bit shaky and nearly sighed in relief, he knew those jerky motions anywhere. "Guess I forgot how good a young, tight body is," he growled, pressing against Kyle's skull harder and weaving his fingers through the sweat-licked tendrils. Kyle rolled his hips, pressing faster and harder and trying to clench his muscles, doing _anything_ to get to the end. Garrison's moves became more violent before a faint 'Jesus' was uttered and the fingers in Kyle's hair tore like a madman's. The redhead squealed at the assault, letting his aching legs stop pushing as Herbert pounded into him like mad, the conclusion evident even through the rubber of the condom. The pushing finally stopped after what seemed like forever, Herbert panting and leaning over the trembling boy. "Good," he said, rubbing his shoulder a bit as he pulled out of him. He stared at the void he'd left in the boy, the way that he shook, his entire body flushed over and glazed with a thin layer of sweat.

He chuckled lightly, undoing the gag and watching as Kyle's mouth hung open in the shape still, heavy, desperate breaths filling the now silenced air. He smirked, grabbing the key for the handcuffs from the nightstand and undoing his wrists. Kyle's arms fell to his sides, his ass still presented high in the air as he tried to work his way back up. Garrison smiled with a cocked brow, pressing his hand on the boy's hip and shoving him onto his back. "Now, if you wanna take care of your little problem, you do it yourself and I watch," he shrugged.

Kyle's eyes shot open and he gulped, quickly fleeting his mind over his options. That was just more humiliation to tack onto an already eventful night, but _fuck_ he wanted to just get some kind of relief. He directed his eyes onto the ceiling, his hand working its way down his lithe body and grasping around his heated cock. He arched a bit at the contact, already so close he could barely take it. "There ya go," Garrison nodded, watching him with interest as he slowly slid his pants back on. Kyle pumped around his cock, his hips jerking into his hand impatiently. His mouth fell back open and he couldn't help but mewl in pleasure as his orgasm crept so close he could taste it. "Come on now," the man urged. The redhead cried out softly and his entire body lurched as he came, feeling himself patter onto his chest and stomach, his hand vehemently pumping until he couldn't stand it anymore. His arm fell back to his side and he gulped, creaking his eyes back at the ceiling, his chest heaving in exhaustion. Jesus, it was a good thing they were cutting it so close, he didn't think he could handle another round.

He jerked as a towel flew onto his face. He cusped it in his hand and glanced shyly at the man now nearly fully dressed once again. "Ya may wanna clean up, I don't think Kenny would like it if ya came home covered in jizz," he snickered. Kyle's high completely died at the mention of his name. He sighed, sitting up and wiping himself and the dripping lube off his tired body. He finished and looked back to see Herbert still staring at him intriguingly.

"...What?" he rasped out.

He shrugged, his grin still prominent, "One of the best I've had in a long time, that's all."

"Gee, thanks," he muttered, slowly swinging his legs off the bed and grabbing his pants and boxers, slowly easing them back up his body. He buttoned them and locked eyes with his teacher yet again. "You...you won't tell..."

He scoffed, "You think I don't know how this system works? Besides, Eric's got my balls in a vice grip if I spill. I can tell anyone I want how good ya are, but if I say who you are I'm fucked worse than you just were."

Kyle blinked. "He...he said that?"

He nodded. "I'm not allowed to tell your name or do anything that wasn't on your little list," he wriggled his fingers. "Eric made it pretty clear to all of us who were biddin' for ya."

He cleared his throat awkwardly, "How...how many guys were-"

"You _really_ don't wanna know," he interjected, raising his brow. Kyle dropped his head and took a deep breath, grabbing his shirt and pulling it back over his head. He stole a glance at the clock. "I getcha for five more minutes, Kyle, and I want to talk to you about something."

Kyle looked back up at him and cocked his head, "A-about what?"

Garrison grasped his shoulder and led him to the bed, sitting him down and taking a place beside him. "Now, you know me. You know I'm more than okay with the idea of payin' people to get laid." He nodded slowly, cringing a bit. "But you aren't the type of person I should be paying," he raised his brow. "You're way too smart for that."

He shrugged, running his fingers through his frizzy hair. "I told you, I don't really have an option right now. And right now, I'm stuck in a contract with Cartman. As badly as I don't want to do this, I'm just stuck where I am. I'll get out someday..." he trailed off, hoping that his words rang true.

"Well, I hope so," Garrison mused, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. "Here, have a tip." he said, throwing a wad of bills into Kyle's hand.

The redhead raised his brows in shock, "Dude, this is $300!" he gaped. "That's not a tip that's a fucking salary!"

He burst into laughter and patted his shoulder, "Oh, Kyle. Trust me, as good as you are with what you can do here, you're going to look back on this day and think I was a cheapskate."

"...I should take that as a compliment but it sure doesn't seem like I can," he murmured in disbelief, staring at the money with wide, hungry eyes.

The man snorted and slapped his back a bit. "Ya better get back out there before Kenny comes in and rips my head off." Kyle couldn't help but smirk at him a bit, knowing full and well that's just what his boyfriend would do if he could. "Not gonna lie here, Kyle, if you're okay with it, I may save up and pay for another night with ya."

Kyle blinked at the proposition and cleared his throat softly, giving him a nod. "Yeah...yeah that's fine with me..." he blushed and got to his feet, walking over to the door. He took another look at the man watching him amusedly and smiled gently. "Thanks for...well..."

"Not shooting you?" he quirked a brow.

"Pretty much," he laughed. "Thanks, Herbert. Seriously. Guess I'll see you another night," he shot him a small smirk before making his way out into the night air. He spotted the three of his friends across the lot and sighed, sticking his tip into his pocket and starting to walk towards them. He could practically smell the judgement from where he stood, but a very small part of him didn't care how they felt about it. His fingers brushed over the bills, his heart still pounding from the adrenaline of it all, and the tiniest of smiles broke over his face.


	9. Chapter 9

Kenny, Stan, and Cartman sat around Ken and Kyle's living room, listening to the shower down the hall. Kenny's finger tapped on his leg, staring at Cartman with a look that could kill. Cartman rolled his eyes after twenty minutes of his silent death glare, "Get your panties out of their bunch, Po'Boy."

The blonde growled, "Why. Garrison?" he spat.

He shrugged and leaned back in his chair, "He offered the most, I told you fuckers that already. And he was the easiest to dig shit up on so there you fucking go."

"How much did he offer?" Stan questioned irritably.

A smug smirk crossed his fat face and he chuckled, "Well let's wait for Kahl, hm? I'm sure he's the most interested in getting the payment."

They heard the water shut off from the bathroom and Kenny grumbled, getting to his feet and heading towards the kitchen. Stan watched after him before turning back to stare at the man looking _way_ too pleased with himself. The walk back to the apartment had been beyond awkward, and Stan nearly wanted to punch himself in the face for the disgust he felt towards what Kyle had to do. He _knew_ it wasn't the redhead's fault but that didn't stop the disturbing imagery of his imagination from getting way out of hand. It was silent and tense aside from Cartman slapping down Kenny's hands whenever he tried to hold onto Kyle. Kyle himself was fairly stoic. He didn't seem angry, humiliated, anything. He just seemed to be on a beeline to get back home as quickly as possible despite his still-wavering steps that Kenny and Stan had to help correct along the way.

"Cartman," he finally breathed out, waiting for the brunette to look back at him. "Why are you doing this to Kyle? You could've picked any fucking person off the street and done this to them."

He laughed, "Well one, because it's fucking Kahl. And two, I needed someone who had the experience already and the desperation. Lucky for me I found all that in the Jew."

His face twisted into a vicious glare, "Ken is going to kill you, ya know," he said lowly.

"I'd like to see him try," he raised his brow amusedly. "Besides, I didn't _force_ Kahl to do a goddamn thing. I gave him an opportunity, and you know how much that Jewrat hates passing those up."

"He didn't have a fucking choice, Fatass!" he hissed. "Jesus fucking Christ you could have at least made it with someone he didn't fucking know!"

"Really? You _really_ think he would've been better off with a complete stranger? One that he'd be _drinking_ with and being exposed to, not knowing if he's dealing with some homicidal maniac?" he quirked his brow higher. "You think that would've been okay on the Jew's nerves, Marsh? Tell me, what would _you_ have done?" he leaned back, folding his hands and looking at him expectantly.

Stan blinked at him, "I-I would've...found a stranger but...but checked out to see if...if uh-"

"Simple background checks don't tell you everything," he interjected. "Just because so-and-so doesn't have a criminal record, well, everyone has to start somewhere. And what better way to start a violent crime spree than with killing a hooker, someone that no one else knows that you're involved with, hm?"

Stan's mouth gaped like a guppy waiting for the hook. He didn't have the slightest idea of how to respond to that. He hated to admit it, but the guy had a point. "Is this what you're going to do, then?" he finally asked quietly, his eyes flickering towards the kitchen looking for Kenny. "Just set him up with people he knows?"

He shook his head, "No. The Jew will have more diversity now that he's had his first job. Things will be changing course from here on out, however."

He raised his brow inquisitively, "How?"

A low chuckle broke through, "Well let's wait for the others before we get into that, hm?"

Stan shifted uncomfortably on the couch, watching Cartman carefully. This just felt beyond wrong, sitting in his friends' living room discussing with their other friend how to whore one of them out. He sighed and leaned back into the cushions, redirecting his attention to the wall. A few weeks ago everything was so boring and simple, and he was so apathetic about it all. He couldn't help but wish he could go back to that point. He glanced up as Kyle emerged from the hallway in his pajamas, running a towel through his dripping hair. He lowered the fabric and shook his head, his hair turned blood red and plastered to his forehead.

"Great, you're still here," he rolled his eyes at Cartman, walking over and plopping down beside Stan.

"Well I _figured_ you'd want to get paid, Jew," he scoffed.

"Just leave the money and _go,_ " he said irritably.

He shook his head, "No. Because I want to see your face when you see what your ass is worth in this bumfuck town," he grinned evilly.

Kyle looked at Stan with an expression that pleaded 'kill me now'. Stan smiled as reassuringly as he could muster, letting his hand rub Kyle's back comfortingly. "You doin' okay?" he asked.

"As well as I could I guess," he muttered, leaning his chin into his hand.

Kenny finally emerged from the kitchen, a mug in his hand. "Here, Ky, made ya some coffee. I know how you get after you drink," he smirked a little.

"You are my knight," Kyle laughed softly, taking the mug and sipping at it, letting out a long sigh. Kenny plopped down next to him and threw his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in possessively away from Stan. The noirette raised his brow at the action before just smiling a bit at the blonde. He had a feeling it'd always be like this. If he wasn't allowed to touch Kyle in public, then he'd be unable to keep his hands off of him at home. There was some reassurance in that, but he could more than tell that not being able to hold Kyle after his ordeal was killing the blonde.

"All right," Cartman smirked, getting up off the chair and beginning to pace. "Well, Kahl, how was your first endeavor?"

Kyle scowled from behind his mug. "Oh it was the night of my dreams, you sack of shit," he spat. "Never before have I been so motherfucking happy."

He sniggered, "Well good. I'm about to make it better. I want you to guess just how much money you made per hour with Garrison."

He rolled his eyes, "I don't know...four hundred?"

Cartman burst into hysteric laughter and the three of them recoiled a bit into the couch, watching his reaction confusedly. "Oh wow, you have no fucking _idea_ what the hell you're doing, do you?"

Kenny growled, "Cartman, get to the fucking point!"

The brunette grinned and grabbed a large wad of bills out of his pocket. "Count it, Jew."

Kyle grumbled, placing his mug down onto the table and quickly whipping through the bills, his eyes widening with each twenty he passed by. He finished and looked up at Cartman with a gaping mouth, "This...this is fucking $2400!"

"WHAT?!" Kenny exclaimed looking down at the redhead in shock. "Are you sure?!"

"And that's already taking out my 40% and minus the $300 I gave you for food last weekend," Cartman raised his brow amusedly.

Kyle furrowed his brow, looking up in thought and gesturing his finger around, his mouth fumbling a bit. He stopped short and looked at the boy with widened eyes, "He...he paid $1500 an hour?!" he squealed.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Stan fell back into the couch, dumbfounded.

Cartman looked at the three of their bewildered faces and snorted. "Told you I'd get your ass auctioned off high, Jewboy."

"How the fuck did you- I mean no one even..." Kyle looked around the room, searching for his words, the money clasped in his hand desperately, like he expected someone to just come along and snatch it from him.

"We're going to run through some numbers, Kahl," he smirked. "I know _you'll_ be able to keep up. Stan, Kinny, do your best," he shrugged. His insult wasn't even felt, both of them just staring at him expectantly. "It's all about averages," he said slowly. "Now, statistically, about five percent of a town has a gay population. South Park has roughly 5,000 people, and we can wipe out half of them being women and children. How many of the men are gay, Kahl?" he looked over at him.

He quirked his brow, thinking. "Uh...roughly...125 I think."

He nodded, "Good. Just assuming all of them are single, we know that about 20% of people are cool with paying for sex, which leaves us with..."

"25," he frowned. "But there's more than that in this town, Kenny and I fucking found them."

"Ah, that's why they're 'rough' numbers, Jew. Now pay attention." Kyle growled and grabbed his coffee, leaning back into Kenny's tight hold. Cartman continued, "You forget how utterly...let's say debauched this town is. Fuck, we had all the men in a giant fucking orgy once if you recall," he rolled his eyes. The three of them nodded in shame, remembering the way their fathers had been right in on that disaster. "This town seems very...fluid in sexuality, wouldn't you agree?"

Stan shrugged, "He's got a point. Seems like everyone's been fucked by every gender in this goddamn place."

"Exactly," Cartman placed his hands together and patted his fingertips. "And we're not the only ones who are more than aware of how retarded our police force is. We know all we have to do is blame it on the nearest black guy and we can get away with murder with those fucking retards in charge," he scoffed. Kyle looked ready to jump into an anti-racist rant before he shut his mouth, realizing that he was right. He just sighed tiredly, waiting for him to continue. "We have fucking bathhouses and gay clubs and that one bondage joint on the edge of town and all kinds of just plain sinful shit lyin' around, and just what kind of people tend to make up the majority of these faggoty clubs? What's your typical marital status for those establishments?" he looked at them all expectantly once more.

"Uh...single...people...?" Kenny guessed. "Me and Ky kinda haven't had to deal with that shit."

"Right," he nodded curtly. "Single guys looking for someone to fuck. And remember, they're single for a reason. Either they're just holding out for 'true love' like faggots, they don't want to be tied down, or they're pieces of shit that no one _wants_ to be involved with."

"What does _that_ have to do with anything?" Stan questioned.

He rolled his eyes, "Single guys are the most likely to pay for sex, you dumbshit."

"I feel like that's not right," Stan blinked.

"What?" Kyle snorted. "Dude, demographically speaking it goes single guys, married guys, then the girls following in the same way. How the fuck doesn't that seem right?"

He shrugged awkwardly, "Because I'm not one of those single guys?"

"Well you don't make up the population by yourself, Marsh," Cartman rose his brow. "I'm single, too and I wouldn't pay some dirty fucking whore."

Kyle glared at him, "Well no wonder you're still a virgin, then, Fat-tits. Lord knows it'd never be consensual with you."

He scoffed, "I'm not going to take a holier-than-thou-art bullshit session from a fucking hooker, so shut the fuck up and pay attention." Kyle sneered and he continued on, "Do you know how rare it is for there to be a gay hooker your age in a town this size, Kahl?"

"Craig said there were only three other gay ones in town," Stan said quietly. "And that two of them were over forty."

"And the other is thirty," Cartman finished with a smirk. "Kahl has the reins over the entire population that wants someone young."

"Oh lucky me," he rolled his eyes. "Glad to know I'm so fucking special."

"Oh that's not it," he laughed darkly, sitting back in the chair and staring at Kyle amusedly. "You're _also_ the only one that is the one willing to _be_ fucked."

They all raised their brows, "The fuck are you talking about?" Kenny asked.

He groaned and shook his head, "Fucking idiots. I mean Kahl's the only one willing to fucking _bottom._ That's what most of the men in this town fucking want. They want to still feel like 'men' even though they're fagging it up. They think that sticking their dick up another guy's ass somehow preserves their precious masculinity or some shit."

"Oh for the love of god do _not_ talk about my place in the bedroom, Fatass," Kyle moaned embarrassedly, covering his eyes with his hand.

"Why not? It's my _job_ to know just what it is you're doing," he smirked.

Kyle lowered his hand and stared at the brunette with anger sparking through his jade eyes. "All right, we went over fucking numbers or whatever. How the _fuck_ did you convince people to pay that much?"

He shrugged, "I just told you. You're the only one that falls into a specific category. What do older straight men like?"

"...Older...women?" Stan guessed.

"Wrong," he shook his head. "They want that college freshman whose tits are still firm and their body isn't sagging yet. They want the _youth._ It goes the same with most gay men, too. They don't want to deal with another wrinkled hairy ball sac," he paused and snorted as the three of them scrunched their noses in distaste. "They want someone young, someone who makes them feel like they're in control. Kahl here is _just_ what they're looking for."

Kyle shuddered and Kenny brought him in closer, putting the redhead on his lap. Kyle raised his brow at the action but settled as strong arms wrapped around his waist possessively, opting to run his free fingers through the blonde's hair. "That's still a lot of fucking money for them to be shelling out, Cartman," the blonde muttered from Kyle's side.

He nodded, "Because Kahl is a..." he looked up in thought. "Let's say a forbidden fruit. There's only one of him, and they all want a taste, so they're going to fight for it."

Kyle's brows furrowed, "Cartman, people can't be _that_ interested in-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," he held up his hand. "Remember, these clubs aren't full with people our age. They're there, for sure, but it's mostly the older generation who can't _get_ with younger guys. If they're desperate enough for a fucking twink like yourself, they'll empty out their life savings for it if you're good enough."

"Okay, one, don't you _ever_ call me a twink again," he growled furiously. "Two, no one fucking knew who I was, so why would they give so fucking much?!"

He shrugged, "Just takes good word of mouth, Kahl, that's all. You walk around your little clubs, you ask what people are into, you say you know someone who's the _best_ at that one thing, and it just takes the fuck off. This town is nothing but gossips, you know that," he grinned. "Close-knit groups like that are the worst. I got your price up to $800 an hour within four days. That's why I extended how long before your first job. I knew I could get that fucker even higher by holding you out for longer. And now, Garrison's going to tell everyone just how _good_ you were. He's going to be our walking advertisement. You all know as well as I do that he can never keep his mouth shut when he gets laid and enjoys it, one of the other reasons that he was selected to be your first," he chuckled.

Kyle looked down into his coffee cup and sighed, Kenny's fingers comfortingly stroking through his damp hair. Stan shifted uncomfortably, "So...is _everyone_ going to be paying that much?" he asked.

Cartman shrugged, "Probably not. But your price is never going under $1000 an hour, Kahl, I'll tell you that much. And a lot of them are more than willing for that. It all depends on what that person wants out of the deal."

"Jesus Christ," Kyle whispered softly. Kenny leaned up and kissed his temple and the redhead gave him a small, forced smile. Kyle looked back over at Cartman and frowned. "Garrison...he said I didn't want to know how many people were... _bidding_ for me," he shuddered. "But...I kind of do want to know."

"Well see now that's where it gets complicated," he chuckled. "It's not only South Park I've got you set up in. Bailey and Conifer's little fag clubs are now more than aware of you as well, they're just as dried out of young gay men such as yourself," he gestured. "So you've got the tri-city area vying for your attention as of now," he raised his brow.

"Give me a _number,_ Cartman," he said coldly, tensing in Kenny's hold.

He shrugged again, "I can't say for absolute sure, because a lot of bids were made with me not there. But the final list gave me about 80 men. And that was just for your first job. They all knew that the price could potentially lessen as of your first outing, so a lot of them were holding out."

"Oh my fucking god," his shoulders dropped. "Are...are you fucking serious?"

He nodded. "Indeed I am. I don't joke around when it comes to business, Kahl, you know this."

Stan watched as Kyle's face just continued to drop, his body slumping into Kenny's arms. "Fatass, you said things would be different now that Kyle had his first...job," he winced. "Did you just mean the price or what?"

He chuckled and shook his head, "No. Tell me, Kahl, just how kinky did Garrison get on you?"

An onslaught of red took over the boy's face and he looked away deep into his coffee cup. "I'd rather not discuss it," he muttered.

"Handcuffs and ball gag, correct?" he smirked. Kyle just tensed and sunk down lower, refusing to so much as look at his boyfriend whom he could feel staring at him. "Kahl, I'm going to know _everything_ that goes on behind that door, so don't fucking be all shy about it," he scoffed. "They have to clear it with me, and I put their sick little toys in the room. Now, did he give you a safety word like he was told to?"

"Yes," he seethed, his jaw trembling in humiliation.

"And it was...?"

He sighed in aggravation, "Bunny."

"And that is now your permanent safety word," he snorted. "Because now, things are going to start getting a little more dangerous here and there."

His eyes finally rose and he narrowed his gaze, nerves flittering through his irises, "What...whaddya mean?"

He rolled his eyes, "Well I can't just set you up with fuckers that you _know,_ Kahl. That'd only make our list about fifteen fucking people."

"Fifteen?!" Kyle shrieked. "Who else?!"

He cocked his brow and smiled, "That's a private business matter, Kahl. Now. You knew you were going to be fucking strangers, but if I remember correctly, you said the day that you and I made this little agreement that not _only_ did you have your little gangbangers after you, but you were tied up and mugged, correct?"

"Correct," he grumbled, shifting on Kenny's lap. He finally looked down at him and met sad blue eyes and felt his heart breaking all over again.

"Well, whenever you're involved with someone you don't know, whoever is watching you that night isn't going to be across the parking lot, they're going to be right outside the door listening to make sure you're not getting killed or whatever."

Kyle paused and looked at him confusedly, "How would-"

"Because you're going to scream your little safety word at the top of your fucking lungs," Cartman said smoothly. "Whoever's with you with have a spare key for wherever you are and come in to get you out while I deal with the client."

"And if he's fucking gagged?" Kenny growled, tightening his grip on the boy.

"I think you can tell the difference between a fucking moan and a panicked scream," he snorted. "And Kahl will be screaming like a banshee, so I _think_ you'll figure it out."

Kyle blinked, looking at Stan, then Kenny, and back to Cartman. "Cartman...why are you trying to keep me safe? And a secret?" he narrowed his eyes. "This isn't fucking like you. Garrison told me what would happen if he told anyone my name."

He shrugged, "Because you're making $1500 an hour. You think I'm going to let that just slip through my fingers? And I know the safer you feel, the more likely you'll be to open up to customers, and the more likely you'll snare them for another night. Did Garrison say anything about that?"

He cleared his throat and nodded, "Yeah. Yeah he said he was going to save up for another night."

"Did he ask your permission first?" he asked cooly.

A slender brow raised and he nodded, "Yeah, he did...why?"

"Because I fucking told him if he wanted that he had to clear it with you first, Dumbshit," he rolled his eyes. "You'd be useless if you spent the whole night dreading it."

"Wait wait wait," Stan waved his hands in front of him and the three of them glanced over towards him. "You said it was _fine_ for Garrison to pay for you for another night?"

Kyle blushed again and shrugged, "He didn't hurt me...a-and he...uh..."

"Tipped well I assume?" Cartman grinned. "I'm not stupid, I knew he would. I don't want your tips so you don't need to hide them from me," he snorted, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm making enough as it is off of you."

Kenny glanced up at his boyfriend, "Did he?"

He nodded, "He gave me $300."

"As a _tip_?!" Stan gaped. "Jesus Christ, Dude!"

"That's what I said," Kyle laughed softly. "I told him it was ridiculous. But...he insisted so...here we are," he shrugged.

"And I thought I did awesome when I get $150 at the bar over ten hours," Stan chuckled awkwardly, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

"Oh, speaking of," Kyle started, reaching down and grabbing the wad of money and looking at Stan. "What percentage do you want for being...uh...you know, a guard?" he winced embarrassedly.

Stan blinked at him, he wasn't really expecting anything out of it, he just wanted Kyle to be safe. "I...didn't really think..."

"How about thirty?" he cocked his head.

"Jesus, Dude, no, that's way too much for me just sitting there," he frowned. "Make it five."

"Twenty," he glared.

Stan rolled his eyes, Kyle's never-ending generosity was definitely out of place in this situation. "Okay, how about this: Ten percent, Kenny has to help me with gas for my truck twice a month, and you bitches owe me a trip out to a cheap dinner every other week."

"Deal," Kyle smirked, handing him $280. "Consider the extra ten a tip," he raised his brow at him. Stan just shook his head, shoving the dirty money down into his pocket.

"You see, Kahl?" Cartman grinned. "Look at that, you just handed Stan $300 without even _blinking._ Couldn't have done that while you were doing your impromptu prostitution ring, could you?"

Kyle sighed and shook his head, "No. No I couldn't."

"I told you," he chuckled, "You're going to make a shit ton of money here. And it wasn't nearly as bad as you thought it would be, was it?"

"Up until having Garrison's cock up my ass it was fine," he rolled his eyes, leaning his head down and resting it atop Kenny's. The blonde nuzzled up into him and looked over at the glutton with steely blue eyes.

"How often does Kyle have to do this?" he asked angrily.

"I'm thinking we start as once a week, then bump it up to two or three times once we get the ball really rolling," he smirked. "That's still less than how often you were doing so for chump change, isn't it?" he tilted his head.

Kyle nodded softly, "Yeah..." he reached down and clasped Kenny's shaking hand in his own tightly. Ken's fingers wrapped around his own and he leaned down, kissing his forehead.

"You two are such fucking fags," the brunette scoffed.

"Jealous?" Kenny sneered.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Whatever." he got to his feet and stretched, glancing at his watch. "Well, this has been fun, gentlemen...and Kahl. But I'm going home."

"Good," Kenny muttered.

"I...I probably should, too," Stan murmured, hopping off the couch. "Gotta cover a shift tomorrow afternoon. Get some sleep, you two."

They both nodded, "Bye, Stan," Kyle smiled softly at him. Kenny merely waved, Stan giving him one back as he followed Cartman out the front door. It slammed behind them and the two of them looked at each other tiredly.

"Are you okay?" Kenny asked, rubbing his back.

He laughed in disbelief, setting his mug back on the table. "Am _I_ okay? Kenny, I'm worried about you right now. You look like death itself."

He grinned sheepishly and shrugged, "Well...you know I'm not fond of you doin' this."

"Well you know I'm right up there with you," he rolled his eyes. "But...fuck Ken...we have almost $3000," he whispered, both of them looking at the money with famished eyes. "We've _never_ had this much money at once, even when we were both working! Add that onto what you'll get from the factory and...well..." he smiled at him sadly. "Maybe we're gonna be okay."

"Maybe financially, but what about mentally and physically?" he frowned. "Ky, I know Garrison didn't hurt ya or nothin', but-"

Kyle cut him off with a chaste kiss. He pulled back and that smile still played on his lips. "Look, Cartman is...admittedly, he's doing well with trying to keep me safe. And I think that I'm actually going to be okay. Besides," he shrugged, "You or Stan will always be there, and I know you wouldn't let anything happen to me. I'll be okay," he kissed him again. They pulled back apart and leaned their foreheads together with deep sighs. "Let's go to bed. I'm wiped," he murmured.

Kenny nodded, "Okay." Kyle moved to get off of him and he stopped him. The redhead looked at him confusedly before Kenny's face broke into a childish grin. He swept under Kyle's legs and behind his back, hoisting him up into the air with a girlish squeal.

"Put me down, Dickface!" Kyle growled, slapping his head.

"Nah," he laughed, shaking off the hit and walking towards their bedroom. Kyle growled, crossing his arms in a pout as he was carried off and away. Kenny snickered at his attitude as he managed to turn off the lights with his back, and bent down so Kyle could lock their front door. He made his way in through their bedroom door and dumped the redhead onto the bed. Kyle landed face first in his pillow and looked up, giving him a half-serious glare in the moonlight.

"You're a dick," he rolled his eyes.

"Oh you fucking _love_ when I do that shit, don't even lie," he teased, hopping overtop of him to his side of the bed. Kyle just chuckled, both of them sliding under the covers. They both screeched as a lump jumped between them and fur flew into their noses.

"Doodle, you fucktard," Kyle growled, gently shoving him down towards their waists. They both watched amusedly as Doodle gave him an indignant look, hopping on the side of Kyle's hip and kneading into his skin.

Kyle winced at his claws and Kenny sniggered, "Ah, revenge is so sweet, ain't it Doods?"

"Don't encourage him," Kyle pouted. Ken laughed and grabbed around him, pulling him flush against his chest as they settled onto the mattress. He let his fingers play with Kyle's still dampened hair, watching the curls gently falling back into place. Kyle nuzzled into his chest, taking a long, deep breath. He bit his lip, his mind ringing something fierce. "Ken?" he whispered.

"Yeah?"

He backed up and stared up at him. "I need to ask you something and...and I really need you to be honest," he winced.

"You know I ain't got the smarts to lie on my feet," he smirked a bit before it fell concernedly. "What's up?"

Kyle opened his mouth a bit, his heart pounding madly in his chest in anxiety. "Do...do you...resent me for not...sleeping...with you...?" he asked, his voice dropping down to nearly nothing at the end of his questioning.

Kenny stared at him, his eyes widened in shock as the question between the lines was pronounced as though Kyle had shouted it through a megaphone. "Holy fucking shit you think I'd leave you over that?"

He recoiled back and blinked, "Well...I-I don't know...fuck, Kenny, remember in high school all we _ever_ did was fuck around," he blushed.

"And it took us almost two years to get to that point and I didn't leave ya then either," he narrowed his eyes. "Jesus, Ky, you know me better than that."

"I know, I know," he said miserably, falling onto his back and knocking a very discontented cat off his hip. He stared at the ceiling, feeling those icy blues boring into him. "Ken, this whole thing...it's like it's changing me. I'm so fucking nervous around you anymore...I don't know what to do."

"Why would you be nervous around me?" he cocked his brow in confusion.

He looked over at him and took a deep breath. "Because I know you say that you don't see it, but I'm fucking terrified that you look at me and just think about how many people I've slept with. I keep thinking that you're going to just...wake up and realize what a mistake I was and leave me...I can't handle that..." he whimpered.

Kenny stared at him for a good while, letting his words sink in before he growled, lunging overtop of him and pinning him down. "You listen and you listen good, Broflovski," he snarled, sending Kyle recoiling back on the bed with wide eyes. "I _don't_ think you're a whore. I don't give a _fuck_ who you sleep with just to keep us fed. I'm gettin' really sick of this conversation, Kyle! How the fuck can I show you that I'm not leaving you for this? You _know_ I wouldn't do that!" his face melting from frustration into complete despair. "Now I'm afraid you're going to convince your stupid stubborn self that you leaving would be best for me and I'll wake up and find you gone!"

"I would _never_ do that!" Kyle insisted, sitting up a bit under him, their noses practically bumping.

"And I believe you, why won't you believe _me_?" he frowned.

"Because I'm the bad guy, not you!" he sighed in exasperation. "Dammit, Kenny...you're so fucking...forgiving I don't know what to do with you."

"Says the boy who literally blew right past me getting arrested for possession of cocaine," he reminded him. "Kyle, do you forget how we were when we started out?"

"Whaddya mean?" he raised his brow.

He scoffed, "I mean _you_ were always the 'good guy'," he air quoted. "You were Mr. Perfect Grades and you were always so nice to everyone and trying to make life easier. I was the goddamn redneck who threw beer bottles at old people just because it seemed like fun," he shrugged.

Kyle shied down, "I...I wasn't-"

"Yes, you were," he cocked his brow. "You were always the guy that people came to when they needed help or someone to forgive them for the stupid shit they did. That's how we started out, remember? You said it yourself, we were like that annoying cliche: the good guy falling for the bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks," he smirked a bit, watching as Kyle did the same. "So I started out not so great, and now we're a little reversed in people's eyes. So the fuck what? Now we'll get past this situation and down the line, maybe we'll finally _both_ be the good guys, all right?"

He nodded softly, "Okay," he whispered, leaning up and taking Kenny's lips. He pulled back and sighed, "I still think you're _way_ too forgiving sometimes."

He shrugged, falling back beside him and pulling him in close. "Well, someone needs to be there to pick up the pieces when you're being a little pussy," he teased.

Kyle scoffed, hitting his arm gently. "Thanks a lot. Nice to know my feelings make me a fucking pussy."

"Oh please, remember when I got emotional when I stepped on Doodle's paw?" he rolled his eyes bemusedly. "You called me a giant raging faggot for a fucking _week_."

"Well who the fuck cries when the cat is just fucking fine?!" he laughed into his chest.

"Someone who gives a fuck," he scoffed, kissing his head lightly.

A moment of quiet passed between them before Kyle's soft voice broke back through. "You've been giving a fuck about me for a long-ass time," he murmured sleepily. "You think you can keep it up with all this bullshittery?"

Kenny tightened his hold around him, his eyes glancing around their room. His stare locked on his top dresser drawer and he nodded, a tiny smile creeping up his lips. "Yeah. I do."


End file.
